do not weep maiden for is kind because
your lover threw wild hands toward the sky and if they’re frightened steed ran
on alone do not weep war is kind horse booming drums of the regiment little
souls who thirst for fight these men were born to drill and die the
unexplained glory flies above them great is a battle god great in his kingdom a
field where a thousand corpses lie do not weep babe for war is kind because
your father tumbled in the yellow trenches raged at his breath gulped and
died do not weep war is kind swift blazing flag of the regiment eagle with
crest of riding gold these men were born to drill and die point for them the
virtue of slaughter make plain to them to excellence of killing and a field
where thousand corpses lie mother whose heart hung humble as a button on the
bright splendid shroud of your son do not weep war is kind