I Miss The War

I wish the war was on,



I know this sounds strange to you.



I miss the war-time life,



anything could happen then:



around a corner, behind a door.



I miss the canon fire,



I miss the air strikes at night.



Down on the basement floor,



we held each other tight,



it rained plaster, it rained glass,



we held on for our life.



I wish the war was on,



I know this sounds strange to you.



My poor crippled con,



my sad one-legged Jew,



I see what it's done to you.



I wish the war was on,



we really worked together then.



Do you remember when



you held the horse, I slit his throat,



the blood ran, melting the snow?



When the meat was carved



the children screamed



and the women cheered.