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Robert W Service - The Sniper
Work rating: Low

Because back home in Tennessee
           I was a champeen shot,
They made a sniper outa me
           An` ninety krouts I got:
           I wish to Christ I`d not!
           
Athinkin` o` them blasted lives
           It`s kindo` blue I be;
Them lads no doubt had kids an` wives
           An` happy home like me:
           Them stiffs I still can see.

Aye, ninety men or more my hand
           Has hustled down to hell;
They`ve loaded me with medals and
           They tell me I done well:
           A hero for a spell.

But Heaven help me to forget
           Them fellow men I`ve slain,
The bubbling flow of blood I`ve let . . .
           I`ll never kill again:
           To swat flies gives me pain.

Just let me dream when we will see
           And end of soldierin`;
When flags of famous victory
           Will be amoulderin`:
An` lethal steel an` battle blast
           Be nightmares of the past.
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