Fortunes of War

Rosebuds scattered across the lawn like the squares at Waterloo

With bayonets of thorns repelling small children in search of

lost tennis balls

Imaginary cannonballs that were fired at the legs of galloping

cavalry

Resting their dreams in the shade of the apple trees

Toy soldiers drunk on warm lemonade

And the children dream of glory and Fortunes of War

Safe in bed with stories of Fortunes of War, Fortunes of War

As the sun sets low on these playing fields

An army returns bearing swords and shields

Dustbin lids and raspberry canes they'll live to fight another

day

For warriors medals, milk bottle tops

Battle flags fashioned from mother's old table cloths

Bright colours run in the summer rain

Sometimes when they fall they will pretend that their hankie is

a bandage to stop the bleeding

And imagine city streets and desert storms and foreign fields

There's bullets flying, these are the Fortunes of War

I heard a wheelchair whisper across a stale, stagnant gymnasium

Trailing an ivy league jacket like a matador

Through the jitterbug steps of the night before

I followed him down to the church parade

Where he makes his peace every armistice day

I watched him fade away, melt in the autumn rain

For sometimes when they fall they can't pretend

That the hankie is a bandage that can't stop the bleeding

They're out in city streets and desert storms or foreign fields

With bullets flying, these are the Fortunes of War

While their children dream of glory and Fortunes of War

Safe in bed with stories and Fortunes of War

Of uniforms and glory, Fortunes of War, Fortunes of War