The Song Was Wordless; The Singing Will

Soldiers Are Citizens Of Death's Grey Land, Drawing No Dividend From Time's Tomorrows.

The Fact Is That Five Years Ago I Was, As Near As Possible, A Different Person To What I Am Tonight. I, As I Am Now, Didn't Exist At All. Will The Same Thing Happen In The Next Five Years? I Hope So.

And There'd Be No More Jokes In Music-halls To Mock The Riddled Corpses Round Bapaume.

I Believe That The Purpose For Which I And My Fellow Soldiers Entered Upon This War Should Have Been So Clearly Stated As To Have Made It Impossible To Change Them, And That, Had This Been Done, The Objects Which Actuated Us Would Now Be Attainable By Negotiation.

I Didn't Want To Die - Not Before I'd Finished Reading The Return Of The Native Anyhow.