Yes - Harold Land
Anderson/squire/bruford)
Harold Land With A Wave Of His Hand Said Goodbye To All That.
He Paid His Bills And Stopped The Milk, Then Put On His Hat.
Promising That He Would Return, But Doubted That He Would,
He Tried To Say His Last Farewells As Quickly As He Could,
In The Mud In Coldness Dark, He'd Shiver Out His Fear,
Doubted That He Would, Doubted.
Now He's Marching Soldiers In The Rain As On To War They Rode.
What Disappointing Sights He'd Seen Instead Of Ones So Dear,
A Long Thin Line Of Human Mind, Damnation As Their Load.
Going Home, He's Going Home,
Going Home, He's Going Home To The Land He Loved So Well.
Going Home, He Fought For Two Years, Never Fell.
Going Home. He's Going Home.
Instead Of Ones So Dear, So Dear.
Harold Land With A Wave Of His Hand Stood Sadly On The Stage,
Only Two Years Had Passed Between His Leaving Home And Back;
Clutching Red Ribbons From A Badge, But He Didn't Look His Age.
He Had Lost His Love And Youth While Leading The Attack, Leading The Attack.
Well It's Not Hard To Understand,
In Conversation It Could Be Said,
Well After War Your Heart Is Dead.
There Is No Heart In Harold Land
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