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Bootless young soldier Making molehills of mountains; Heedless of headstones: Dream not again! O, how you used to shoot straight from the hip, Risking your neck. Footloose tin soldier Milling milestones by the minute, Millions of memorials, Wishing to holler! O, how you used to hate ties, iron collars Ringing your neck. Guileless toy soldier Marching young marionette, Treading the thread without a net, Ringing black curtains down. O, how you used to stride into the night Brightly out of step... God rest, dead soldier. When the whims of your god Your thirsting throat caress, You will dance! You will dance! Oh! You will dance. And you will shiver like the rest!"Three little devils, all dressed in red, |
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