hey disembarked in '45
And no one spoke and no one smiled
They were too many spaces in the line
Gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with the hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial knifes
but now

She stands upon Southampton Dock
with her handkerchief
and her summer frock
clings to her wet body in the rain
In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins (of state)
She bravely waves the boys goodbey again

And still the dark stain spreads between
his shoulder blades
mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut