Killing Ground

They do the things all soldiers do

While they’re waiting to die

Writing letters to their friends

That will never be delivered

They have dreams about escaping

Getting away underneath the fence

And being, once more reunited

With their families and friends

Sitting calmly in the barracks

From where they watch the guards

Standing at the maingate

Smoking and playing cards

But this remains just wishful thinking

Deep inside they all know

There’s no escape from this place

A dead end is as far as they can go