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Battle's won by heros tall
And by all of those that fall
Immortal Gods that gave their all,
Not by cripples over there,
Things that give our kids a scare.
They puke, they bleed, they choke, they're sick
Why they "walk" I cannot tell,
They're going nowhere double quick.
No tomb, no stone, no mark at all,
No plinth upon the City Hall,
You're not in heaven so go to Hell,
That's why they praise the wounded here,
'Cos no-one else'll ever care.
By Robert L Thompsett