( based on army dreamers ) he was in the military four men in uniform his mother waited for him to come home she waited at the office -- although it wasn't just an office. it was the British forces post office she remembers her son wanting to be a rock star but she couldn't afford a guitar the mother didn't like the war it was a waste lifes the lack of opportunity's led her son to join the military the son was young limited careers economic pressure from the guitar he wanted serving overseas because of the bfpo he was just a little army boy he's not a solider he was still a child though he was in the army he was still a dreamer she was mourning in the aerodrome frozen in lost now he's on the ground and the four men in uniform appear again poverty blocked him from being what he wanted there will be no grandchildren because they will never exist a whole future erased war felt like a garbage can full of waste and the waste were bodies who were innocent. innocent people with hopes and dreams medals for her son were too late seconds too late it didn't mean anything anymore now he's sitting in his hole buried in confinement Now the air is warm and he is not. no hard heroes just dead boys not men. boys. medals were a weak apology he wasn't even twenty yet The world asked for papers and uniforms, not permission. It pointed and said go, and he went -- because going was cheaper than dreaming. And somewhere, quietly, the dreamers keep lining up, thinking they’ll come home different, thinking they’ll come home at all. oh what a waste of all of them
