|
Armalite, street lights, night sights |
|
Searching the roofs for a sniper, a viper, a fighter |
|
Death in the shadows he'll maim you, he'll wound you, he'll kill you |
|
For a long forgotten cause, on not so foreign shores |
|
Boys baptized in war, boys baptized in war |
|
Morphine, chill scream, bad dream |
|
Serving as numbers on dog tags, flak rags, sand bags |
|
Your girl has married your best friend, loves end, poison pen |
|
Your flesh will always creep, tossing turning sleep |
|
The wounds that burn so deep, burn so deep |
|
Your mother sits on the edge of the world |
|
When the cameras start to roll, |
|
Panoramic viewpoint resurrect the killing fold |
|
Your father drains another beer, he's one of the few that cares |
|
Crawling behind a Saracen's hull from the safety of his living room chair |
|
Forgotten sons, forgotten sons, forgotten sons |
|
And so as I patrol in the valley of the shadow of the Tricolor |
|
I must fear evil, for I am but mortal and mortals can only die |
|
Asking questions, pleading answers |
|
From the nameless faceless watchers |
|
That parade the carpeted corridors of Whitehall |
|
Who orders desecration, mutilation |
|
Verbal masturbation in the guarded bureaucratic wombs |
|
Minister, Minister care for your children |
|
Order them not into damnation |
|
To eliminate those who would trespass against you |
|
For whose is the kingdom, the power, the glory for ever and ever |
|
Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen |
|
Halt who goes there |
|
Death |
|
Approach friend |
|
You're just another coffin, on its way down the Emerald Isle |
|
When your children's stony glances mourn |
|
Your death in a terrorist's smile |
|
The bomber's arm placing fiery gifts on the supermarket shelves |
|
I've seen the shrapnel detonate a temporary hell |
|
Forgotten sons, forgotten sons |
|
From the dole queue to the regiment a profession in a flash |
|
But remember, Monday signings went from door to door you dash |
|
On the news a nation mourns you unknown soldier count the cost |
|
For a second you'll be famous but labeled posthumous |
|
Forgotten son, forgotten son, forgotten son, forgotten son |
|
They're still forgotten, they're still, still forgotten |
|
Peace on earth and mercy mild, Mother Brown has lost her child |
|
Just another forgotten son |