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La Colombe

Why all these bugles crying for squads of young men drilled

To kill and to be killed and waiting by this train?

Why the orders loud and hoarse, why the engine's groaning cough

As it strains to drag us off into the holocaust?

Why crowds who sing and cry, and shout and fling us flowers

And trade their right for ours to murder and to die?The dove has torn her wings so no more songs of love

We are not here to sing, we're here to kill the doveWhy has this moment come when childhood has to die

When hope shrinks to a sigh and speech into a drum?

Why are they pale and still, young boys trained overnight

Conscripts forced to fight and dressed in gray to kill?

These rain clouds massing tight, this train load battle bound

This moving burial ground sent thundering toward the nightWhy statues towering brave above the last defeat

Old word and lies repeat across the new made grave?

Why the same still birth that victory always brought

These hoards of glory bought by men with mouths of earth?

Dead ash without a spark where cities glittered bright

For guns probe every light and crush it in the dark

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