But now
She stands upon southampton dock
With her handerchief
And her summer frock clings
To her wet body in the rain
In quiet desperation knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again

And still the dark spreads between
Their shoulder blades
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut