Dead soldiers can’t march. They can’t hear your lies. They can’t hear their buddies Or their agonizing cries. The politicians lie so smoothly Some dreams are so lifelike And the lies are said so truthfully That some life seems dreamlike.
Dead soldiers are not the ones, The ones out looking for war. They, above everyone else, Know exactly what war is for. Congress keep swords sharpened Year after hypocritical year. Don’t let it happen again Don’t let it happen here.
Dead soldiers can’t hear you When you pray to the crowd. They can’t hear the platitudes No matter how florid and loud. They are beyond your excuses And they never really mattered. People in power are safe far away From where all the blood is splattered.
Dead soldiers can’t hug their kids Or kiss their wives in the morning. No more time exists for them It ended with little warning. They did what they were told to do With no mutinous thought in their head. They were obedient and loyal And now they are quietly dead.
Congress keep swords sharpened Year after hypocritical year. Don’t let it happen again Don’t let it happen here.