I slept like a drunkard
In a wide bed of dreams
A dead man for company
His isolation it screams.
And what of this man
In a uniform of war
A gun in his dead hand
A face round the door.
His mother remembers
A child in her arms
Blind to the truth
Of battlefield scars.
In a hole in the ground
As dawn rubs its eyes
A dead man for company
His mother she cries.