The war is sucking up our splendid youth.

They’re racing to the front; they won’t come back.

Each town and village starts to empty out,

As friends and classmates go on the attack.

They’re fighting for our dignity and state

Of freedom and of happiness pursued,

But consequences, each one plainly knows,

Could be unmentionably vile and rude.

In these now quiet streets the young once dreamt

And plotted better worlds, from dawn to dusk.

Those who return will never be the same;

If frames are sound, their minds will be a husk.

The greater good may warrant sacrifice,

But war’s destroyed illusions are not nice.