You never really came home
Did you, my love?

Tortured memories from hell below  
As you prayed to above.

You were boys sent to fight a rich man's war
As they greedily drank the blood you poured
While the nightmares drained every last drop of you
Exhausted by the torment they put you through.

Friends. Brothers. Lovers.

Now all scattered parts across a foreign land
Their ashes set deep within the dry desert sand.

Vivid memories now stir you in the night
The fearful flames in your eyes shining so bright

And I see you trying to drown out the mournful flame
Yet you hide the whiskey on your breath with endless shame
As I conceal my bruised body and battered heart
I love you but was never fit to play such a part.

So in my anguish - I acknowledge yours
Filled with anger for the innocence that once was our
Now cruelly trapped behind these post-war bars.