As 11 o’ clock strikes
the field is full of silence.
No-one surrounding me
I want to go back home
I can’t, the dead are stopping me.
Now that I’m alone I don’t feel so brave
I want to turn around
but I don’t feel strong enough,
but I don’t feel brave enough
Can I sit by your gravestone?
I’ve got some questions in my head
What was it like in World War 1?
What is it like being dead?
Then I know I’m talking to the dead
What’s happening to my head?
What should I do if there’s a World War 2?