We, as a country, elect a leader
(Near enough we do anyway)
This leader is sent to live in London
And in London they'll tend to stay
A five minute walk from work
What a beautiful place to reside
And if you go to Downing Street
You can see through the leader's eyes
See, what's telling is not the gates
The security looking the part
What's telling is the surroundings
The feel, the look, the Art
Some of our leaders have gone to war
More sent others in their stead
Some of those others came victorious, some came defeated
Most they came back dead.
As if in protestation, the country, well
The country responded in force
Not to say they were wrong or at fault
Although some of them were, of course.
Merely to make many a monument
A testament to those dead throngs
Then make many more (for we've many a war)
Built strong of stone and bronze.
Each war is different, each monument too
But somehow all the same
Trying to tell our leader, shouting it silently
That war is not a game.
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