watch the bullets fly

There's a poster on a wall somewhere

A temptation for the young

The recruiting sergeant stands close by

He knows it won't be long

Before they queue to sign away

Their future for a gun

And as the sun goes down

Its then his work is done

Alone with the shadows of night

Children huddle by

To pray that they will survive

As they watch the bullets fly

There's a gunman on a corner

In a military uniform

He's in a foreign country

Locals look at him with scorn

They say “he's no right to be here

It's not his land to take

Go back to your own country

Before it's too late”

“So it's not my fault I'm sent here

That's a politician's choice

I'd gladly leave your country

And give you back your voice”

But it's not that simple soldier

You made the choice your own

By joining the state's army

You're despatched away from home

To end up in Ireland Iraq or Afghanistan

Where people treat you with contempt

Will you ever understand?

© Padraig Lalor February 2006