And wear a mask in the bomb-loud glade.
And I shall have great fun there, for fun comes fairly fast,
Bonfires in the purple heather and the barracks burning fine,
There midnight is a shindy and the noon is overcast
And evening full of the feet of kine.
I will arise and go now, for always in my sleep
There comes the sound of rifles and low moans on the shore;
I see the sudden ambush and hear the widows weep,
And I like that kind of war.
Evoe.