Pink Floyd Southampton Dock

They disembarked in 45
and no-one spoke and no-one smiled.
There were too many spaces in the line.
Gathered at the cenotaph
all agreed with hand on heart
to sheath the sacrificial knifes.

But now she stands upon Southampton dock
with her handkerchief.
And her summer frock
clings to her wet body in the rain.
In quiet desperation
Knuckles white upon the slippery reins
she bravely waves the boys Goodbye again.

Still the dark stain spreads between their shoulder blades,
a mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves.
When the fight was over
we spent what they had made.
But in the bottom of our hearts
we felt the final...