Soldiers Hands - Amandine

Trouble’s brewing in the ranks

Broken (knot?) on every flag

And all the soldiers' hands were red

From all the tears and blood that’s shed

And in the morning when the reveille

Pulls us from more sleep

Puts a fracture in the reverie

And kills our quiet dreams

Widow waits (_____________?)

A solemn look upon her face

Time is lost in love and war

Remember what you’re waiting for

Then the morning when the enemy

Fire among the (_____?)

Sounds like voices in analogy