(adtpt. t. springfield / gray)



I walk where once the grass was green

And mourn the lark that sings no more

What bird could sing whose eyes have seen

Broken blossoms on the field of war?



And as they lie there in the sun

How unimportant now it seems

Just who has lost and who has won

When with them have died so many dreams



They dreamed that endless hate would end

Unceasing fear, one day, would cease

They dreamed that foe would turn to friend

And eternal war would turn to peace



But who can say how many more

Will join these young and hopeful men?

In fields they've never seen before

Far from fields they'll never see again