Amos made a promise, took a sip of wine,

Poured his heart out and he bowed his head.

Pledged to come back safely as Evangeline

Shed a tear for every word he said.

 

Polished as the buttons on his uniform,

Amos bowed to her and kissed her hand.

Gone to face the fury of the raging storm.

Hoped his lady love would understand.

 

Troopship cuts the water on a sea of glass.

Lookout taken with a homesick dream,

Focused on a vision of some cherry lass,

While a periscope lies dead abeam.

 

Walking down the corridor by candlelight

In a mansion full of silent rooms.

Loiters in her husband’s study every night

Where the presence of his absence looms.

 

Soldier comes one morning with a telegram

And a story of a ship gone down.

Sadly tips his hat and says, “I’m sorry, ma’am.

What a shame it is when brave men drown.”

 

Courage, honor, loyalty and songs of war,

Verse and chapter writ in martyrs’ blood;

Second-hand excuses from the time before,

Grand illusions worth their weight in mud.