A War poem from 1918 – written by Osbert Sitwell
The long war had ended.
Its miseries had grown faded.
Deaf men became difficult to talk to.
Heroes become bores.
Who had converted blood into gold
Had grown elderly.
But they held a meeting,
“We think perhaps, we ought
To put up tombs
Or erect altars
To those brave lads
Who were so willingly burnt,
Who lost all likeness to a living thing,
Or were blown to bleeding patches of flesh.
For our sakes,
It would look well,
Or we might even educate the children.”
But the richest of these wizards
And he said,
“I have always been to the front
-in private enterprise-,
I yield in public spirit
To no man.
I think yours is a very good idea,
-A capital idea-
And not too costly….
But it seems to me,
That the cause for which we fought
Is again endangered.
What more fitting memorial for the fallen
Than that their children should fall for the same cause?”
Rushing eagerly into the streets,
The kindly old gentleman cried
To the young:
“Will you sacrifice
Through your lethargy
What your father’s died to gain?
The world must be made safe for the young!”
And the children
Those who caused the First World War and who funded both the rise of Hitler and the war against him, are at it AGAIN
Song-lovers note, this is the original version, with the correct lyrics!