My grandfather fought for his country
In a war that was meant to be won
In a matter of weeks
But the trenches ran from the Alps to the sea
They moved back and forth, sometimes just a few feet
Success was measured in terms of acceptable losses

My father flew planes over England
In a time about which he seldom
If ever spoke
And the air-raid sirens called out to both sides
Heinkels and Lancasters plied the same trade
To Dresden from Kitty Hawk took us only 41 years

Looking back now I've had it easy
I never was asked to surrender my life for a cause
In a bomb-cratered hell in some far-away place
With names on the maps that I couldn't pronounce
Surrounded by strangers whose only wish is that we leave

The tools of war keep getting smarter
But not those who always find reasons
To stay in the game
Korea and Kosovo, South Vietnam
Palestine, Darfur, the list never ends
And the fourth world war will be fought with sticks and stones