Death'd selected his comrade to die
On some battlefield years before
And the eyeball had followed him home

So he struggled to reason the Why
But no answers would come to the fore
Death'd selected his comrade to die

As he slept she would hear frantic cries
He adored her yet she needed more
But the eyeball had followed him home

Thus he wanted to end his own life
Asking, "What is it really all for?"
Death'd selected his comrade to die

He figured it'd all been a lie
Politicians blood thirsty for war
Still the eyeball had followed him home

And his tears might not ever run dry
And presumably prayers were ignored
Death'd selected his comrade to die
And the eyeball had followed him home

Written by Sara Fielder © Sept 2012