Sixteen Boys

Adolf, this War is almost over,
So you called me back today
To defend our Capital
That’s been almost blown away.

The streets I loved are soaked with blood,
My tank is a burned-out shell.
My buddy’s hollow eyes are staring
Into a bombed-out hell.

You’ve taken these children from their schools
To fight this battle for you.
You gave them praise and iron crosses,
But talk is cheap and metal too,

Sixteen boys and one bazooka   We can’t fight a War this way.
Maybe this nightmare will be over if we can last one more day.
Sixteen boys have sixteen mothers, and if I can do just one thing right
Sixteen mothers will hold their boys.  We’ll make it through the night.

Adolf, I called you the Prince of Peace
Back in ‘38,
While you got rid of those against your War
And those who wanted to wait.

You could have been a great World Leader
If you‘d stopped after giving us jobs and dignity.
Instead, millions of mothers
Will now curse you in eternity.

I’m hiding with those boys in an alley now,
While the world is bursting at its seams,
And while you’ve crept into your cellar of cement,
Spinning drug-crazed dreams.

Sixteen boys and one bazooka   We can’t fight a War this way.
Maybe this nightmare will be over if we can last one more day.
Sixteen boys have sixteen mothers, and if I can do just one thing right
Sixteen mothers will hold their boys.  We’ll make it through the night.

I’ve been shot – they may find me and take the boys,
Then there’s one more thing I’ll have to do:
I am saving this last weapon I’ll ever bear –
Dear Adolf – it’s for you.

©  2005  Ingrid Heldt