I sit here in my comfy recliner by the looming fire
With thoughts flooding my mind like an endless mire
I’ve sat and pondered my days away
About what could’ve become if I were swayed
To the darkness that awaits
Within the contents of my traits
Then I think of all the moments
Where my mind and soul were free of torments
Where I frolicked to and fro with no worries
Of all the Irish enraged Draftees
Free of stains of abhor
And the places they must restore
Free of knowledge of the war
And all the acts against humanity and its gore
All I kept within my head
Was what lurked beneath the shadows of my bed
So here I am, old and sore
With strong reminiscent of the war
Thinking about what could’ve been
If I hadn’t been so keen
I raised my wine filled glass
Thinking about me in all my glory and sass
In a time where no song went unsung
And made a toast to when I was young
