Originally recorded on a Tascam in the 90's...
By Design
He lived by the musket and the drum
And he flourished by the lash, and navy rum
He was her prowd and only son
She knelt down by his grave
felt the love she couldn't save
It was blown away at the Somme
Tell me it wasn't all for nothing
Tell me it wasn't all in vain
Surely a life must count for something
wont you justify this pain
As moral middens build up like moraines
The Ghost of 1918 looms again
By happenstance or by design
And now the scent of blood
Turns the river into floods
Like tears in poppy fields
And those who lived returned to their homes
And the flowers made their homes in the bones
And the years passed by and we put it on the silver screen
And memories are screaming in the wind
