General
I thought I was ready for war
I’ve made foes enough for a lifetime
Some I met while dreaming, some I made while scheming
Some I killed down the stream and watered the stones with their blood
I thought my quiver had arrows but I quivered in sorrow
When I realised that the man next to me had no chance at tomorrow
A chink in his armour, no soldier, a former farmer
Living on time he didn’t realise was borrowed
They called me general, now I’m attending funerals
Men with flesh and blood reduced to marble and murals
Defend your lands, they had their orders
Then we bit more than we can chew, and crashed upon the borders
In new foreign lands the men saw horrors
And now they can’t make it home to their own daughters
I hold life and death, I mark dots on my map
I hold a heavy heart beneath these armour straps
Every day I see the fallen carted off into ditches
And every victory has a lesser audience to clap
And there’s the old bastard in his crown
Lounging on a throne in his gown
While we bleed against the wind by the sweat of our brow
And the fucker still welcomes us with a heavy frown
Your imperial majesty, have you seen the travesty
Have we wrought upon ourselves, it’s comic in its tragedy
We’re mercenaries and not even for your gold
Brigands all, and me the biggest, repeating the lies you told
And I see your court jester, that unholy guest who lets words fester
Crested hills to watch his jingling platitudes about how we should’ve known better
Torn letters and found shelter
I go on the field with more medals, but my swords lesser
