some may remember g w bush visiting a war cemetery in northern france some while ago and some carefully staged television pictures of him wandering through the graves looking grim and determined.



within a short time, the weasely little cunt was campaigning for wars in afghanistan and iraq. the visit to a war cemetery had obviously had no sobering effect on the psychopathic mother-fucker. i believe firmly that he relished the thought of all those young men dying at the behest of the capitalist war-pigs. i also believe that his suit jacket was kept buttoned to hide an obscene little stiffy.



here's a wwi memorial song which says how i feel after visiting war cemeteries last year:



green fields of france - eric bogle



Well how do you do, Private William McBride

Do you mind if I sit here down by your grave side?

A rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,

I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done.

And I see by your gravestone that you were only 19

when you joined the glorious fallen in 1916.

And I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean

Or, William McBride, was it slow and obscene?



Chorus:

Did they beat the drum slowly?

Did they sound the pipes lowly?

Did the rifles fire o'er ye as they lowered you down?

Did the bugle sing 'The Last Post' in chorus?

Did the pipes play 'The Flowers o' the Forest'?




And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind?

In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined

And though you died back in 1916

To that faithful heart are you always 19.

Or are you just a stranger without even a name

Forever enclosed behind some glass-pane

In an old photograph torn and tattered and stained

And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?



Chorus



Well the sun it shines down on these green fields of France,

The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance.

The trenches are vanished now under the plough

No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now.

But here in this graveyard it is still No Man's Land

And the countless white crosses in mute witness stand.

To man's blind indifference to his fellow man

And a whole generation that was butchered and downed.



Chorus



And I can't help but wonder now Willie McBride

Do all those who lie here know why they died?

Did you really believe them when they told you the cause?

Did you really believe them that this war would end war?

But the suffering, the sorrow, some the glory, the shame -

The killing and dying - it was all done in vain.

For Willie McBride, it's all happened again

And again, and again, and again, and again.



Chorus