Bury Me With Soldiers

I’ve played a lot of roles in life;

I’ve met a lot of men.

I’ve done some things I’d like to think
I wouldn’t do again
And though I’m young, I’m old enough
To know someday I’ll die.
And think about what lies beyond, And
Besides whom I would lie.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter much;
Still if I had my choice,
I’d want a grave amongst soldiers when
At last death quells my voice
I’m sick of the hypocrisy
Of lectures by the wise
I’ll take the man with all his flaws
Who goes, though scared, and dies.

The troops I know were commonplace;
They didn’t want the war
They fought because their fathers and
Their father’s fathers had before.
They cursed and killed and wept –
God knows they’re easy to deride –
But bury me with men like these;
They faced the guns and died.

It’s funny when you think of it,
The way we got along.
We’d come from different worlds
To live in one, where no one belongs
I didn’t even like them all and,
I’m sure they’d all agree.
Yet, I would give my life for them,
I hope. Some would for me.

So bury me with soldiers, please
Though much maligned they be
Yes, bury me with soldiers, for
I miss their company.
We will not soon see their like again
We’ve had our fill of war.
But, bury me with men like them
Till someone else does more!