Over all our happy country - over all our Nation spread, Is a band of noble heroes - is our Army of the Dead.
quote by Will Carleton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Nation Must Stand Firm
If openly they commit misdeeds,
Then the country shall remain,
And the nation exceeds
In the number of troops again.
The army has pain all abhorrent,
Many strike fear and retaliation
For they do not know who is absent,
The army or the law? Whose acceleration?
I guarantee the spread of health,
Active are the infantry in their strength,
May the legion carry its stealth
And let radio the wavelength.
We exceed the enemy in power
And we declare a truce;
What do we do as we are abler?
Abduct the foe with no abuse.
Let the nation stand firm against enemy control,
And let ages pass sweeter than charcoal.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Temperance Army
Come all ye friends, and citizens,
Where-ever you may be,
Come listen to a few kind words
A friend will say to thee,
Although going to speak to you
I mean you all no harm,
Tho' I wish you'd join the army
Of the temperance reform.
Come join the glorious army
Of the temperance reform,
And every man that joins the ranks,
Will find it is no harm,
To wear Red Ribbon on his breast,
To show to this rare world,
There is one that joined the army
And his colors has unfurled.
Come all men in our nation,
Come join this happy band,
And make your homes an eden,
Throughout our happy land.
Your homes will then be happy,
Your friends will all be kind;
And in the domestic circle
True happiness will find.
Ah, from this temperance army,
Your feet shall never stray.
Your mind will then be balmy
If you keep the shining way.
Your paths are strewn with flowers,
And your homes are rosy light,
And God will watch the hours,
For He's ever on the right.
Come all ye merry happy lads,
And listen to my rhyme.
Don't be afraid to join the pledge
And let be the cursed wine.
Ah, lay the flowing bowl aside,
And pass saloons if you can,
And let the people see that you
Can be a sober man.
Go join the temperance army,
And battle for the right,
And fight against the enemy
With all your main and might.
For it is a glorious army
This temperance reform,
And the badge Red Ribbon
Will do you all no harm.
poem by Julia A Moore
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That Most Humans Crave For Glory
That most humans crave for glory is surely not a lie
And though you well may love your Country for your Country why should you die
Since dead heroes like dead cowards cannot help their Country in any way
Whilst alive you can help your Country even though you look old and gray
The dead hero cannot hear the bugler when the last post it is played
Though some may say his ghost is present at every war parade
The deserter is dishonoured from the fight he ran away
But to his Country he's of some use he's alive and well today
The dead hero he is honoured though to him that of no use
For to justify their recent war the war leaders use the war dead as an excuse
For another bloody battle a war they themselves will not fight in
Though in every war that ever was humanity did not win
You cannot serve your Country by dying for it so live for as long as you can
And die hopefully a painless death as a very old man.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The real heroes
Bearing the rage of elements
Far from their loved ones
Exposing their lives to danger
Yet remain firm and dedicated
To the safety of the country
They are real heroes who wake up in the night
When we are in the bed
They toil at the border
When we enjoy with our family
They also have families and friends
They also pine for them
But country is a priority for them
They forget everything for the sake of the country
They live for the country
And they die for the country
They are not among them who never miss
A single chance to earn money
And yet called heroes
These so called heroes put the honour
Of the country at stake
But our soldiers put their live at stake
To save the country from embarrassment
They are the pillars of the country.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Anzac Day
Patriotic men and women from sixty down to sixteen
Rode proudly on their horses in the famed Anzac green
Followed by the women of the Red Cross in their renowned white and red
On this day every April they honour the war dead.
Up to the war memorial where a large crowd stand around
And at the front of the congregation old 'Diggers' to be found
Old veterans of World war 2 they show their years in gray
Their war medals pinned to their lapels their bravery on display.
A lone bugler played the last post to honour the war dead
And an old man who was standing near i saw him bow his head
And tears were trickling down his face his thoughts were far away
Some noble men who were his friends in foreign Country lay.
We are gathered here this morning the ageing speaker said
To commemorate true heroes our great and brave war dead
They made the ultimate sacrifice and at a young age they did die
And we have them in part to thank for the freedom we enjoy
For our soldiers who died in foreign wars for their souls let us pray
It's only to remember them that we have Anzac day
Their bones may lay in foreign fields but in history they survive
And the spirit of the Anzac is still very much alive.
He thanked the old war veterans who marched in the parade
How can we thank you enough for the sacrifice you've made
You risked your lives in cause of peace 'we salute you today'
You noble men who won the war in Country far away.
He thanked the red cross women the finest in the Land
And the bugler who played 'The Last Post' and the six piece marching band
And the horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And he asked the band to finish up by playing 'God save the Queen'.
And the band played 'God save the Queen' but not 'Advance Australia Fair'
And i who doesn't believe in war could only feel aware
That in Britain they don't play the Australian anthem when they honour their war dead
Was it for Britain or Australia that young Aussie blood was shed? .
The horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And the bugler played the last post and the band played 'God Save The Queen'.
And a war veteran spoke of Aussie war dead their bones in Europe lay
At least they are remembered still on every Anzac Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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These fallen heroes represent the character of a nation who has a long history of patriotism and honor - and a nation who has fought many battles to keep our country free from threats of terror.
quote by Michael N. Castle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Losers Never Write The War History
The losers never write the war history that's something we already know
Yet for the many wars fought through the ages we do not have the wisdom to show
That victory too comes at a huge cost for war the price is huge to pay
For families who grieve for their dead members their sense of loss with them will stay
Until they themselves go to the reaper the reaper who claims one and all
The loved one war had taken from them with great sadness they will recall
But the dead to life cannot be returned better to live as a coward than die brave
For none has yet come back for to tell us that there is a life beyond the grave,
They died for their God and their Country of dead war heroes some well may brag
Those who place too much worth on the unknowable and the colour of their Nation's flag
I for one find religion and patriotism confusing of god and war heroes hymns and songs are sung
But surely it is a misnomer that only the good do die young
And yet from war we have not learned young lives are lost for wars to be won
And if lasting peace ever does come it won't be through the barrel of a gun
poem by Francis Duggan
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Gains to both the invader and the invaded
Long long ago
So long ago
No one knows how long ago
There ruled a king
By name Vasanthasena
Who had an army
That was not trained
To fight enemies
And had no weaponry
They had no training camps
They had done no testing of missiles
They were just at the border
Guarding the great nation
The only thing they knew was
How to keep them self- amused
They had fun and frolic
Their main training input was
How to keep enthusiastic
Happy and innovative
How to keep laughing
Energetic and enthused
Came once an external army
To engulf and capture
The country
Our cheerful army
Greeted them
Made them feel
They have not come to fight
But to get united
With the cheers and laughter
Dropped their weapons
Joined the greeting cheerful warriors
Enjoyed the hospitality
Of the king Vasanthasena
The so called invaders
Lost track of their mission
Got dissolved in the happiness
Of the country to be invaded
They understood
If weapons win war
With a lot blood shed, miseries and loss
Love and togetherness win hearts
With no loss
But gains to both the
Invader and the invaded
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A zeal for the defence of their country led these heroes to the scene of action, though with a few men to attack a powerful army of experienced warriors.
quote by Daniel Boone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Army Dreamers
B.f.p.o.*
Army dreamers.
Mammys hero.
B.f.p.o.
Mammys hero.
Our little army boy
Is coming home from b.f.p.o.
Ive a bunch of purple flowers
To decorate a mammys hero.
Mourning in the aerodrome,
The weather warmer, he is colder.
Four men in uniform
To carry home my little soldier.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Tears oer a tin box.
Oh, jesus christ, he wasnt to know,
Like a chicken with a fox,
He couldnt win the war with ego.
Give the kid the pick of pips,
And give him all your stripes and ribbons.
Now hes sitting in his hole,
He might as well have buttons and bows.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of all that
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers, oh...
(b.f.p.o.)
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
Army dreamers.
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 144 part 3
v.12-15
L. M.
Grace above riches; or, The happy nation.
Happy the city where their sons,
Like pillars round a palace set,
And daughters, bright as polished stones,
Give strength and beauty to the state.
Happy the country where the sheep,
Cattle, and corn, have large increase;
Where men securely work or sleep,
Nor sons of plunder break the peace.
Happy the nation thus endowed,
But more divinely blest are those
On whom the all-sufficient God
Himself with all his grace bestows.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Heroes Are Dead!
Like sacrificial lambs
were heroes quite dead,
with courage they thread
the fate that others feared
to die for sake of majority.
No matter what obstacles
or threats to their mortal lives
heroes dare risk their own honor
to prove the innocence of victims
who succumb to the devilish souls
Heroes stand for justice
and bring back the lost pride
grabbed and stolen by loan sharks
whose only concern is self interest
to enrich more thus wrecking the poor
Heroes deserve a monument
as memoir of their great sacrifices
in every race and country a hero is born
who fights against dictators of destruction
Heroes are the epitome of social justice
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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I Hope You're Never Happy
Writer Dolly Parton
I wish you all the luck I wish you only the best
Satisfaction in love, and true happiness
I wish you blue skies and rainbows, I wish you joy pure and sweet
I wish you all that you wish for, but only if you're with me
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I wish you nothin' but trouble if you've decided to leave
I'm just not like those heroes found in books and on TV
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I have had you too long, I have given too much
I have loved you too strong to think of giving you up
I've always envied those lovers that wish you well when you leave
And wish you luck with another; but there are others like me
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
And every face you look into, I hope you're haunted by me
Yes, I'm possessive and jealous; at least I speak honestly
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I'm just not like those heroes found in books and on TV
I hope you're never happy, never ever ever happy
Never ever ever happy
With anybody but me
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I wish you nothin' but trouble if you've decided to leave
I'm just not like those heroes found in books and on TV
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I hope you're never happy
I hope you're never happy with anybody but me
I hope you're never happy
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was Raised On Rebel Music
I was raised on rebel music and rebel verse and song
That stirred up patriotic feelings but could not right a past wrong
And what now does it matter when all is said and done
Forget the long dead heroes and battles lost and won.
The ballad of Robert Emmett and Wolfe Tone's lonely grave
Were such men quite foolhardy or were they truly brave?
To be hung drawn and quartered for your beliefs is not a pleasant thing
And little value to them now if others of them sing.
The ballad of Sir Roger Casement also known as The Lonely Banna Strand
Executed as a traitor to his Nation but a hero in Ireland
A hero to one can be a villian to another at least that's what they say
And for love of his adopted Country with his life he had to pay.
I was raised on rebel songs and stories such as those men of ninety eight
And in every war that has been fought new heroes they create
But what value are dead heroes they are helpless where they lay
And their too brief lives were wasted seeing war is still waged today.
The founders of the Land League live in Irish history
Parnell and Michael Davitt I learned of their bravery
John Mitchel the Young Ireland leader by boat transported many a sea mile
To Van Diemen's Land in Australia to imprisonment and exile.
I was raised on rebel music and rebel verse and song
Of brave young men who died for their Country to such a background I belong
But I never wished to emulate them never even as a boy
I would rather grow to be an old man and of natural causes die
poem by Francis Duggan
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What General Has A Good Army
WHAT General has a good army in himself, has a good army;
He happy in himself, or she happy in herself, is happy,
But I tell you you cannot be happy by others, any more than you can
beget or conceive a child by others.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Like To Talk About War Heroes
You like to talk about war heroes I'll take you to meet one today
On warm days he sits on a park chair from here in distance a short walk away
In him you may feel disappointed he is frail and aged and gray
He has blocked out most of his war memories of war he has little to say.
He is not your idea of a hero but heroes they too do grow old
Just one more forgotten old warrior the years on him in wrinkles have told
He fought under the flag of his Nation in his Country he had great pride
A survivor of the war trenches where thousands of brave young men died.
He lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in a cold and drafty place to live in
Yet in his early twenties he was a decorated soldier and medals for his bravery he did win
For him it has all come to nothing and on the reaper's call he wait
On war memorial day he does not walk in the parade he feels no cause to celebrate.
You like to talk about war heroes you come for a short walk with me
And sitting on a park chair in the sunshine a war hero in the flesh you will see
Long before your father was born he fought in a war from here far away
He is the last of his battalion his war comrades amongst the dead lay
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Country Waltz
They were playing that old country waltz
In this empty bar echoin off the wall.
When I first got the bad news that you set me free,
The band played the old country waltz to me.
Well, I loved, and I lost, and I cried
The day that the two of us died.
Aint got no excuses, I just want to ride
While the band plays the old country waltz.
Out the window the moon shines
On the roofs of the cars
While I knock down tequila and salt
And the band plays the old country waltz.
And were playin it, that old country waltz
In this empty bar echoin off the wall.
Aint got no excuses, we just want to play
That good old country waltz.
I aint got no excuses, I just want to play
That good old country waltz.
That good old country waltz.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Not long ago, if you wanted to seize political power in a country you had merely to control the army and the police. Today it is only in the most backward countries that fascist generals, in carrying out a coup d'état, still use tanks. If a country has reached a high degree of industrialization the whole scene changes. The day after the fall of Khrushchev, the editors of Pravda, Izvestiia, the heads of the radio and television were replaced; the army wasn't called out. Today a country belongs to the person who controls communications.
quote by Umberto Eco
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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This Is The Army Mister Jones
sheet music version:]
A bunch of frightened rookies were list'ning filled with awe
They listened while a sergeant was laying down the law
They stood there at attention, their faces turning red
The sergeant looked them over and this is what he said
This is the Army, Mister Jones!
No private rooms or telephones
You had your breakfast in bed before
But you won't have it there any more
This is the Army, Mister Green!
We like the barracks nice and clean
You had a housemaid to clean your floor
But she won't help you out any more
Do what the buglers command
They're in the Army and not in a band
This is the Army, Mister Brown!
You and your baby went to town
She had you worried but this is war
And she won't worry you anymore
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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