Well, of those that wear the Keffiyeh
From Palestine, I am the last;
And the deeds that rang our youthful dreams,
It seems shall go undone.
Well, South for the sands of Israel,
Our guns and moonlit gliders were made
And our leaders were strong and our missiles long,
And our liege, Allah's will.
Well, the hills did turn from green to sandy white -
Vanish as on motorbikes, we watched
But every thought in that noble company
Was forward bound
To the lifeless plains of Kibbutz Re'im,
Where reigned the Song of the Tyrant's Peace,
And with barrels afire and glorious eyes
We pledged our mission be
Well the air from hot to hellish ran
And the winds from fair to fierce, did blow
Oath and prayer did turn to thoughts
Of home left far behind
Longed every man for some glimpse of death,
And the virgins that did await us beyond,
But each new day brought only a horizon
Of clay rubble and twisted steel beams.
Thanks give, no words can drag you through
Those endless weeks, in tunnels dull.
Thanks give, you cannot see the dead
In anguish unavenged.
Mud we drank and leather did chew,
For the store is bare amidst total war.
And the dead that slid into the pits,
Did burn before our eyes.
As a wind did fling our land apart,
Each man to go his separate way.
And, the sky did howl and the sun did groan
For how long, I do not know.
And what child was left when the bombs had ceased,
Grew dull and low of countenance.
For a soldier denied his battle plain,
On a comrade soon must turn.
And so one by one, we died alone
Some by hunger, some by war.
And the bodies contorted where they did fall,
Their souls unsanctified.
Until only another and I were left
Then just before his flame did fail,
We were shone ourselves brothers-in-arms
To serve Allah's will.
Well, perhaps this shall reach Lebanon,
Although I know not how it can.
For once again, Netanyahu's hurled his wind,
Upon Arabs, meek and proud.
But if it should, my words are these
"Arise, young men, fine war to make,
And set forth South to Israel
'Neath banners proud as fire.