In my youth were troubled days,
With worldwide war and public dismay.
I was a soldier in my youthful time,
Fighting boldly at the Buldge and the Siegfried Line.

But as with every man before me,
Time has seasoned me, as anyone could plainly see.
And once again the time is now,
To fulfill my annual mourning vow.

I wander through the yard with a solemn trot,
As I pay my respects to each hero in their plot.
With each and every visit, my tears fall.
But never are they shown, to be seen by all.

At the end of my tour, I look up to see,
A truly gruesome sight that infuriates me.
For marching with pride down the street,
Is the very foe we fought and died to defeat.

Did we all fight for no reason at all?
Did so many, for nothing, perish and fall?
Did so many men shed so much blood,
Just too temporarily remove the fascist flood?

O’ sovereignty, where are you at?
Why have you let my people permit this vile threat?
Why have we allowed this abominable sin?
Why have they spit upon the graves of my fallen men?

Cursed be those who allowed this atrocity!
May they suffer for all eternity!
They may beg us for forgiveness, but they shall not find it.
For they have brought back that wretched foe from that hellish pit.