JP MC MENAMIN.co.uk

J.P MC MENAMIN.co.uk

Home Biography Books Poems Diaries Thoughts Artwork Contact us
 

 

BRAIN WASHED
(Sing to the air of the Zoological gardens by the Dubliners)
 
Oh to be a good soldier
One thing you must do
Is to lose any wit that was beat into you
And march up and down, 'till your face turns bright blue
And soon you'll be classified-crazy.
            
They'll take the humanity
Out of your soul
You'll stand like a fool and salute a flag pole
Or roll like a pig in some mucky old hole
To prove you're com- plet-ely crazy.
                     
They'll send you to war
With a gun in your hand
All spick and span and looking quite grand
And tell you that you're not a boy but a man
And you will obey, 'cause you're crazy.
                
And they'll say now that you
 Have got God on your side
As a battle ship takes you far over the tide
And you'll never think once of poor Arthur McBride.....
How can you think, when you're crazy?
                  
You'll get used to the noise
Of the bombs and the shells
The blood and the guts, the brains and the smells.
All you want to do is to send them to hell
Like any man would, when he's crazy.
            
In hand to hand fighting
You will stand eye to eye
Each of you hoping the other will die.
For the enemy too have been told the same lie
The man you are killing is crazy.
              
Millions of men
With mad staring eyes
Walk over the guts of friends who have died
Shooting and stabbing, with God on their side
Unable to see that it's crazy.
            
How can you kill
Without once asking why?
Seeing the hate and the fear in his eye
And crying for mother as they lay down to die.
Did you never once think, this is crazy?.
           
Did you brag to your mates
Did you tot up the score
Hoping and praying to kill just one more
Did you get a high from the guts and the gore?
That's what you do when you're crazy.
           
Shooting a man
Is a hard thing to do
For others perhaps, but it's easy for you
Plunge in the bayonet and give it a screw
It's easy for you who are crazy.
     
Now war is over
What can you do?
The country you fought for, well it don't want you.
They send you back home in a demob suit of blue
Knowing you are incurably crazy.
                 
So you sit in your chair
A strange look in your eyes
Fighting the madness that was brought on by lies
And the people all knowing that you're not half wise.
That's why the kids call you crazy.
             
He's crazy, he's crazy
The children will jeer
When you march like a fool to the pub for a beer.
It's only in nightmares that you shed a tear
A tear for the mad and the crazy.
                
And now you're confined
To a small padded cell
To foam at the mouth, to scream and to yell
Living each day all the horrors of hell
All the signs of a man who is crazy.
               
And the country that sent you
Will not take the blame.
The strait jacket that binds you has no regiment's name..
For the safety of others they found you insane
The Queen has no time for the crazy.
              
And smart new recruits
Still play the old game
And it happens again and again and again.
To make a man kill, you must make him insane
That's why every soldier is crazy.
          
So mothers take heed
Of each word that I say.
Don't let them send your son far, far away
A brain washed toy soldier who will always obey
And be sent back to you when he's crazy.
          
Crazy, yes, crazy
Completely insane.
Crazy for killing again and again.
Made crazy by the army, who altered his brain
For each soldier has to be-crazy.

30/08/09

 

Copyright 2009 J P McMenamin