Lest we forget we mumble, then
We go and have a beer
Lest we remember all the mud
And blood that brought us here.
The war to end all wars, they said –
All them that pulled the strings
From in their cushy offices –
As if they’d learned some things.
But blokes like that don’t ever learn.
They never have to, see.
To them it’s power games, and not
Dulce et decorum est*
They tell us every year,
The Suits, so when they start their war
We’ll rush to volunteer
* Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: It is a sweet and fitting thing to die for one’s country. (Horace)