Thunderclouds pass to reveal the sun, br Yet pools of water still remain, br A shot is fired from a soldier’s gun, br As another falls in dampened pain br br Disfigured bodies lay in the field br All but recognized by their friends in life br What was this day supposed to yield? br A hilltop, a valley, a mourning wife? br br Tanks and artillery play their own song br To faceless targets with receiving ears br The instruments know no right from wrong br Yet play louder and louder to increasing fears br br Each side feels the same of the war br And at each other they’ll continue to strike br Whene’er they feel needs to even the score br They ignore the fact that they’re so much alike.