And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your God like a soldier.
Rudyard Kipling- The Young British Soldier. There are happy poems he does but this one still shocks
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your God like a soldier.
Rudyard Kipling- The Young British Soldier. There are happy poems he does but this one still shocks