<p>I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.</p> <p>In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.</p><p>You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.</p>

<a href="http://www.matsjonsson.nu/serier/viljans9.gif" target="_blank">yeah</a>

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGZBbciksao" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGZBbciksao</a>
Magnus Betner hatar också erat liv.