War Poetry

Sentry

Waiting in the setting sun at the end of the road
The armies have moved away like the fading gold
I stand sentry by the rusting gate but no one comes
Nothing moves this way in the valley of stone
The evening shadows steal across the hills
And only the seasons change, only the seasons change

I've seen so much more than I wanted to see
The flies all swarming round in the blistering heat
Layer upon layer here of the same old curse
The red blood draining down into the blood red earth
In the end we all tell these stories just the same
And only the names are changed, only the names are changed

The empires rising, falling like the seas
Their voices are just the whispers in the trees
I lock the chain upon the gate for the end of the day
I clean the gun that I'll never use and lay it away
As the stars spread like splinters of the sun
And only the seasons change, only the seasons change

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/pMfNtqLZpIA

The Charge

Our history speaks in thunder from a thousand village halls
In blood and sweat and sacrifice, in honouring every call
So the forces gathered against the thorn a-piercing in their side
A brave new world is beckoning so the olden world must die.

In the offices of the city, at all the tables of oak and power
The snares are laid and baited for the approaching of the hour
A hundred justifications and the presses are ready to roll
The gateways to the nation they are firmly under control

On, on, on, cried the leaders at the back
We went galloping down the blackened hills
And into the gaping trap
The bridges are burnt behind us and there's waiting guns ahead
Into the valley of death rode the brave hundreds

We called for some assistance from the friends that we had known
But this is the 1980s and we were on our own
We never felt like heroes or martyrs to a cause
Just battle-weary soldiers in a bloody civil war

The massacre now is over and the order new enshrined
While a quarter of the nation are abandoned far behind
Their leaders offer the cliche words, so righteous in defeat
But no one needs morality when there isn't enough to eat

The unity bond is broken and the loyalty songs are fake
I'll screw my only brother for even a glimpse at a piece of the cake
We only cry in private here behind the shuttered glass
When we think of the charge of this brigade, the severing of the past

On, on, on, cried the leaders at the back
We went galloping down the blackened hills
And into the gaping trap
The bridges are burnt behind us and there's waiting guns ahead
Into the valley of death rode the brave hundreds

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/NodLWqbdL9I

jhaelan

war_poetry

Spirit of the Falklands

The natives are restless tonight, sir
Cooped up on estates with no hope in sight
They need some kind of distraction
We can give them that
'Cause they'd die if they only had something to die for
They'd kill if they only had something to kill for
They'd cheer if they only had something to cheer for
We can give them that
So it's off to war we go (I couldn't believe it)
Bring out all the flags (I never believed it)
Fight the good fight

It's working like a dream, sir
Half the nation are hooked on the bait
Waiting for the next victorious installment
We can give them that
'Cause it's no surprise that young men are heroes
It's no surprise that young men are strong
It's no surprise that young men are foolish
We've known that all along
Exciting pictures on News at Ten (I couldn't believe it)
Read all the crap on all the front pages (I never believed it)
Fight the good fight

Dead men in the South Atlantic
It's meant to warm our hearts
They think that they died for you and me
Oh God, what a farce, what a farce

And now it's the repeats
Plugging the Falklands and the Falklands' spirit
Show the pictures again and again
Till the next war comes around
'Cause we'll kill if we only have something to kill for
We'll die if we only have something to die for
We'll cheer if we only have something to cheer for
That is worthy of the name
Oh yes the next war (I never believed it)
See the propaganda in TV fiction (I never believed it)
Enemies with horns and tails

There are dead men in the South Atlantic
It's meant to warm our hearts
They think that they died for you and me
Oh God, what a farce, what a farce
There's crippled men back home in England
Doesn't it warm your hearts
They think they fought for peace and freedom
Poor boys, what a farce, what a farce

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/25iIePOTORc

Red Earth

The rock is made of diamond, the rivers wash with gold
The sun beats down in rhythm, pounding on our reason
Pounding on our reason, ringing in our skulls

Sometimes this land looks empty - it plays so many tricks on you
The soil of dried blood - sown with seed of people
Overrun with armies - that grow out of the earth
They flow down from the mountains, spring out of the ground

The shacks they all have numbers, the dirt tracks run in straight lines
Vanity and uselessness, the minds of prison guards

Praying on a Sunday, dressed up in our finest
Any god is welcome, any god that will come
To give back what was taken, take back what was given
Blood and death and sacrifice, the curse of wasting plague
And all the beauty tainted and east of Eden cast

Children walking barefoot in the golden dust
Boys with blinding eyes, perfect skin and Bible names
Machetes and AKs, perfect skin and Bible names
Machetes and AKs, perfect skin and Bible names
Take back what was taken, take back what was taken
Take back what was taken, machetes and AKs

All the waiting, all the walking all the miles
All the working in the fields and in the mines
In the orchards of the rulers
Bring us cure, bring us deliverance from evil
From all the sins of all the fathers
Bring us water, bring us vengeance, bring us power
Catch a sound in the dead of the night
The clicked triggers of security lights
By the pool where the shadows stir, silent, silent
Through the scented garden moving in
By the waving of the skeletal trees, closer and closer
Through the doors and through the walls and...

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/Rmqgb76_36E

Purity

The rains move in eastwards, in waves of succession
Drawing lines of grey across the sky
With history just as close as a hand on the shoulder
In hunger and impatience we cry
The battle against corruption rages in each corner
There must be something better, something pure
And the call it is answered from the caves to the cities
Come the dealers of Salvation on Earth
We've seen the restless children at the head of the columns
Come to purify the future with the arrogance of youth
Nothing is as cruel as the righteousness of innocents
With automatic weapons and a gospel of the truth

Revolution for ever, succession of the seasons
Within the blood of Nature, all raised to rot and die
This purity is a lie

Now immaculate conception in sterilised laboratories
How the vanity goes on
Or in the message of the preacher with his morals and obsessions
The wars that we wage upon ourselves
Purity is a virtue, purity is an angel
Purity is for madmen to make fools of us all
So forgive yourself my friend, all this will soon be over
What happened here tonight is nothing at all

Revolution for ever, succession of the seasons
Within the blood of Nature, all raised to rot and die
This purity is a lie

I will always see Brendan at that broken down piano
His fingers thick and red, shaking on the keys
Battered by the years of alcohol and working
Still playing with the faith that never leaves
So sit us down, buy us a drink, tell us a good story
Sing us a song we know to be true
I don't give a damn that I never will be worthy
Fear is the only enemy that I still know

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/f0lr4XI2jXY

Gigabyte Wars

Well, you never grow up, you just get older, carrying
all the familiar burdens with you, walking back on
the hometown streets on a night devoid of stars.
No one ever said it was going to be just, you really
ought to know by now how She's all red in tooth and claw;
after all, weren't you the one screaming for more?

In the gigabyte wars - round and round we go,
beneath the vapour trails - tangled up inside in a web of lies,
hostages of fortune and savage tales.

Well, you entered stage in blood and pain, gulped for air
and then you cried out - this is just the way it comes;
that's Stupid Questions again . . .
It's not the things that you fear that come to get you,
But all the things you don't expect, face down in a
drowning pool of unfulfilled desire, in the gigabyte wars . . .

Then comes the rain - just seems to make the night grow hotter,
we listen to the drops as they clatter on the roofs of the cars;
sometimes it seems like you're going to suffocate in this
conspiracy of noise - but though the ties they stretch to break-point,
still they hold, still they hold, and blood runs still in crimson streams
and dries like the earth - but still they hold.

In the gigabyte wars, once we were lost, then we were found;
once we were found - then we were lost again.
Get real, if a real exists - there's nothing more than this,
Strung out on nothingness . . .

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/pe8MS8j91B0

Modern Times

It seems strange to write about these things now
but the time has probably come when we should
accept whatever is past and gone and never will return.
Looking back to the beginning
I see a flood of painful memories
and the bitter hurt and wounded pride that comes with our defeat
We set out with our heads held high,
so sure our ground, our righteousness,
the new Jerusalem to be built with love and guts and truth
But in the end we surrendered easily.
It's no use pretending otherwise . . .
well most of us had a little something to lose, enough to break our nerve.

Well, some of us made an easy peace and moved into the Brave New World;
it's hard for the true believers to look back now and realise
that for many of the crowd it was just the fashion, the cause of the moment,
well we if anyone should know that you can look pretty dumb
standing in last year's clothes.
And some of us, shell-shocked still, ran for shelter and do the rituals
the same old way pretending that someone out there cares
And some of us live in the modern world.
We give unto Caesar what is due
and harbour the bitterness of defeat and daydreams of revenge.

Now nothing you see out there is real,
It matters not what you believe in.
It matters less what you say but only what you are.
It matters what you are. It matters what you are.

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/Z2gEMErxJto

Christian Militia

There's a witch hunt coming, screaming out on its rebirth
There's a crusade coming, Hellfire's back here on earth
See the light in their eyes shine, listen to their words like swords
The Christian militia is marching now
There's a witch hunt coming, born out of all the American fears
There's a new purge coming, an Inquisition for all of us here
Hold onto your sanity as best you can
While some Hitler claims to speak for the Son of Man
The Christian militia is marching now

Hatred makes the adrenaline flow
Stir up the fire, watch it grow
Everybody loves a righteous cause
Old lives forgotten in holy wars
Everything forgotten in holy wars

There's a nightmare coming, shut up your doors, close your mind
There's a nightmare coming - Born Again, born again blind
The girls show the way, then show us their legs
With American showbiz razzmatazz
With sex in one hand and a gun in the other, Christ returns
The right-wing respectable clampdown clan
Find their figurehead in a holy man;
Here come the Christians, an hysterical mob
Worshipping the Devil in the name of God
Worshipping the Devil in the name of God

by Justin Sullivan

http://youtu.be/0yiGljVwcJ4