Mares ar War
Across the fields of mud and blood,
and under constant fire.
In Flanders – France, there is no God,
the situation’s dire.
Young mares move from trench to trench,
their bravery is known.
Soldiers bored, they seek a wench,
upon mares they still frown.
Across the fields of mud and blood,
and under constant fire.
In Flanders – France, there is no God,
the situation’s dire.
Ammunitons for heavy guns,
the mares have yet to carry.
Soldiers sit and make some puns,
’bout mares that they would marry.
Across the fields of mud and blood,
and under constant fire.
In Flanders – France, there is no God,
the situation’s dire.
Two of mares awoke at night,
the soldiers were the reason.
What they did was less than right,
some would call it treason.
Across the fields of mud and blood,
and under constant fire.
In Flanders Fields there is no God,
but mares they never tire.