Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud about your doubts and fears,
And what's more, no one ever disappears,
You never hear their standard-issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no one kills the children anymore.
In the corner of some foreign field,
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.