Vārdi: Fish. Fortunes of War.

Rose beds scattered across the lawn
Like the squares at Waterloo
With bayonets of thorns repelling small children
In search of lost tennis balls

Imaginary cannonballs that were fired
At the legs of galloping cavalry
Resting their dreams in the shade of the apple trees
Toy soldiers drunk on warm lemonade

And the children dream of glory and fortunes of war
They're safe in bed with stories
And fortunes of war, fortunes of war

As the sun sets low on these playing fields
An army returns with its swords and shields
Dustbin lids and raspberry canes
They'll live to fight another day

Warrior's medals, milk bottle tops
Battle flags fashioned
From Mother's old table cloths
Bright colors run in the summer rain

'Cause sometimes when they fall
They will pretend
That the hankie is a bandage
To stop the bleeding

And imagine city streets
And desert storms and foreign fields
And bullets flying
These are the fortunes of war

I heard a wheelchair whisper
Across a stale, stagnant gymnasium
Trailing an ivy league jacket like a matador
Through the jitterbug steps of the night before

And I followed him down to the church parade
Where he makes his peace every armistice day
I watched him fade away
And melt in the autumn rain

'Cause sometimes when they fall
They can't pretend
That the hankie is a bandage
They can't stop the bleeding

They're out in city streets
And desert storms in foreign fields
Oh, there's bullets flying
These are the fortunes of war

While the children dream of glory
And fortunes of war
They're safe in bed with stories
And fortunes of war

The uniforms and glory
The fortunes of war, fortunes of war
The fortunes of war, fortunes of war
Fortunes of war, these are the fortunes of war

Of war, of war, of war, of war, of war
These are the fortunes, these are the fortunes
Fortunes of war, these are the fortunes, fortunes of war
These are the fortunes, fortunes of war