The True Officer

The True Officer

Yellow sands of the desert we swallow you in the evening,
We taste you at lunchtime; we eat you in the morning,
We inhale you in the night-
We cough and we gasp.
We long for a fast death without any pain
An officer in a tent, he clings to his pencil and writes
He writes in the deserts night to his children
-I will be home for Christmas-

He writes it and then leaves the tent all alone
And he watches the same golden moon
He calls for his soldiers and he cleans his weapon
And he orders the next deadly attack
Than he concedes the solders to dance.  

Yellow sands of the desert we swallow you in the evening,
We taste you at lunchtime; we eat you in the morning,
We inhale you in the night-
We cough and we gasp.
We long for a fast death without any pain.
An officer in a tent, he clings to his pencil and writes
He writes in the deserts night to his children
-I will be home for Christmas-

He gets drunk and he celebrates
Lets the soldiers clean the tanks
And the music is gentle playing
Before their last fight to death  

Yellow sands of the desert we swallow you in the evening,
We taste you at lunchtime; we eat you in the morning,
We inhale you in the night-
We cough and we gasp.
An officer in a tent, he clings to his pencil and writes
The diary of his first real war
About the weapons so deadly
And the collateral damages of the day
He writes in the deserts night to his children
-I will be home for Christmas-

An impact in the dessert only few miles away
And ten guards die from hostile fire
The music fades into a cry
While the officer in his tent dreams from victory
And he smiles-


Yellow sands of the desert we swallow you in the evening,
We taste you at lunchtime; we eat you in the morning,
We inhale you in the night-
We cough and we gasp.
An officer in a tent, he clings to his pencil and writes
The diary of his first real war
About the weapons so deadly
And the collateral damages of the day
About careless unable soldiers
And his innocent and pure conscience
He writes in the deserts night to his children
-I will be home for Christmas-

 

©denise-a. langner-urso