In the land of the loyal where brave men sleep
Where the willows in silent homage weep
What stories of courage they could tell
Of the friends who lived, of the friends who fell
Of the battles they lost, of the battles they won
Of the demons they fought in the cruel desert sun.
The thirst, and the sweat, the heat of the sand
To hold, or retreat, at the word of command.
To do what your told -to cede or to hold
To die in your youth to never grow old.
The doubts and the anguish, the heat and the flies
The truth that is always the slave of the lies…
And all of those dreams that would crumble to dust
Of the peace that was theirs in the damp, grey earth.
What more could we ask, what more could they give
Who died in their youth that others might live…