Rosebuds scattered across the lawn like the squares at Waterloo With bayonets of thorns repelling small children in search of lost tennis balls Imaginary cannonballs that were fired at the legs of galloping cavalry Resting their dreams in the shade of the apple trees Toy soldiers drunk on warm lemonade And the children dream of glory and Fortunes of War Safe in bed with stories of Fortunes of War, Fortunes of War

As the sun sets low on these playing fields An army returns bearing swords and shields Dustbin lids and raspberry canes they'll live to fight another day For warriors medals, milk bottle tops Battle flags fashioned from mother's old table cloths Bright colours run in the summer rain

Sometimes when they fall they will pretend that their hankie is a bandage to stop the bleeding And imagine city streets and desert storms and foreign fields There's bullets flying, these are the Fortunes of War

I heard a wheelchair whisper across a stale, stagnant gymnasium Trailing an ivy league jacket like a matador Through the jitterbug steps of the night before I followed him down to the church parade Where he makes his peace every armistice day I watched him fade away, melt in the autumn rain

For sometimes when they fall they can't pretend That the hankie is a bandage that can't stop the bleeding They're out in city streets and desert storms or foreign fields With bullets flying, these are the Fortunes of War While their children dream of glory and Fortunes of War Safe in bed with stories and Fortunes of War Of uniforms and glory, Fortunes of War, Fortunes of War