Author Unknown

I’ve played a lot of roles in life;

I’ve met a lot of men.

I’ve done some things I’d like to think

I wouldn’t do again.

And though I’m young, I’m old enough

to know someday I’ll die,

and to think about what lies beyond,

Beside whom I would lie.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter much;

Still, if I had my choice,

I’d want a grave, amongst Sailors when

At last, death quells my voice.

I’m sick of the hypocrisy of lectures of the wise.

I’ll take the man, with all the flaws,

Who goes though scared, and dies.

The troops I knew were commonplace

They didn’t want the war;

They fought because their Fathers and

Their Fathers had before.

They Cursed and killed and wept…

God knows they’re easy to deride…

But bury me with men like these;

They faced the guns and died.

It’s funny when you think of it,

The way we got along.

We’d come from different worlds

To live in one where no one belongs.

I didn’t even like them all;

I’m sure they’d all agree.

Yet I would give my life for them,

I know some did for me.

So bury me with Sailors, please,

Though much maligned they be.

Yes, bury me with Sailors,

for I miss their company.

We’ll not soon see their likes again;

We’ve had our fill of war.

“But bury me with men like them

Till someone else does more.”