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The first war, the war of 14 to 18 |
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Begins with an uprising of adrenalin |
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The first war begins with the testicles descending |
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And desire assassinating the child that you once were |
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The war begins at school when you rebel against the maths teacher |
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Who touched you up behind his desk |
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And ends when you've failed your final maths exam |
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And had your first success with sex |
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The war brings new discoveries |
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How to make dog fights with your thyroid and pituitary glands |
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How the Zeppelin can fly at your command |
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And a generation lays down its life |
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When after all they've done for you |
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The good parents die |
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Resurrected as your enemy |
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And when the girl you've started wanting |
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More than all you've ever wanted says "no" |
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She is, she is your enemy too |
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But you survive |
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And from the trenches of your newly found opinions |
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Freshly dug, quickly abandoned |
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The white flag waves for an armistice on Christmas Day |
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Then your voice rings round the family front room |
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Like a drill sergeant's in front of his platoon |
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Broken, broken too soon |
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But you survive |
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The second war, the war of 39 to 45 |
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Begins when you identify your own inner Third Reich |
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The second war begins with a sudden hypochondria |
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A visit to a doctor who waves a piece of paper and says |
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"This time it's just a false alarm" |
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The war begins at work with some intoxicating news |
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When the letter comes that offers you promotion |
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And ends when you decide to let them offer it |
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To younger men with more ambition |
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The war brings new perspectives when you suddenly see through |
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The politics of power which possessed you |
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Through all your waking hours |
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And a generation lays down its life |
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When the whizz kids of the industry |
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Slow down, slow down and die |
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Resurrected as your enemy |
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And when the woman who accepted you |
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When all the rest rejected you goes |
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She is, she is your enemy too |
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But you survive |
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And at weekends you get custody of an only child |
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Already adolescent and unreconciled |
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Who laughs at you, you and your new-found piety |
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And his laugh rings round your faint desire for god |
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Like an order from an inner firing squad |
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Breaking, breaking the ties of blood |
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But you survive |
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But the third war is the war that never comes |
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The war that never comes to everyone |
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Begins the second after next by accident |
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Ends everything except itself |
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The war brings nothing, the unimaginable |
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That the old imagine all the time |
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Imagine imagination dying |
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And a generation lays down its life |
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When it refuses the creation |
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Of new ways, new ways to live |
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And when the great invention falls apart |
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Ripping through the atoms of your heart |
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The third war, the third war will start |
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Which no-one survives |
