I've known no war. And if I ever do I won't know for sure. Who'll be fighting whom. For the soldiers lonely tomb. Now opens as soon as the referee's gun starts to roar. I'll know no war. Galbraith took his pen. To break down the men. Of the German army defeated. On the nineteenth day. Of a spring day in May. Albert Speer was deleted. And as soon as the battle was over. I was born in victorious clover. And I've never been shot at or gassed. Never tortured or stabbed. And I'm sure - I'll never know war. I know I'll never know war. And if I ever do. The glimpse will be short. Fireball in the sky. No front line battle cries. Can be heard and the button is pushed. By a soul that's been bought. I'll know no war. In and out of reach loft. The medals are lost. They belong to a lone broken sailor. His provinces now. Are the bars of the town. His songs and his poems of failure. For his grandchildren can't see the glory. And his own kids are bored with the story. But for him they'd have burned behind netting. >From the brink they were grabbed. And I'm sure. I'll never know war. I've known no war. And if I ever do I won't know for sure. Who'll be fighting whom. For the soldiers lonely tomb. Now opens as soon as the referee's gun starts to roar. I'll know no war. War - I've known no war. I'll never know war. And if I ever know it. The glimpse will be short. Fireball in the sky. No front line battle cries. Can be heard as the button is pushed by a soul that's been bought. And the armies remaining will judge without people or courts. And there's no point pretending that knowing will help us abort. I'll know no war.