I dreamt I was a soldier
but without a battleground
and the reds and blues and fiery greys
of my uniform had faded
I thought I heard a trumpet call
so I listened with my ears,
it was only a conceited man,
a humble brave, defeated man,
a very special old, old man
tapping with his shoe.
I thought I heard him ask me
if he'd seen me once before,
cast my pearly robe aside
drop my gravel to the floor,
but I told him he was dreaming
or mistaken,
or on fire
for I'd never seen a courtroom
from that side of the Law.
I said, "Farewell, old timer,
do not forget your Youth!"
but he wasn't where I left him
he was not to be found
so I turned towards the moonlight
looking for a battleground.
I came upon a vision
that my memory had conspired
and it showed me many naked girls
who spoke with tongues of fire,
and they told me that my battlefield
had vanished from their grasp
and had gone to seek out soldiers
who were angrier.
I wondered if their meaning
was within their tangled hair
tho' they said that they were ignorant
they were merely here to serve,
so I took hold of their service
for a month of lonely nights
as they fought hard to replace
all that my uniform had lost.
