Oh do we want to do it all again
And suffer all the darts that lie in store
As part and parcel of the new campaign?
Oh would it not be wiser to refrain
From hope that leads you glibly to the door
Then slams it shut with cavalier disdain?
Oh must we ever bear the mark of Cain
Occasioned by events three years before
Condemned to linger on this barren plain?
What oracle exists that can explain
Why Tolka’s floodlights should be such a draw
On filthy nights of cold and constant rain?
Oh why should we subsist on this terrain
Where earth is hard and nutrients are poor
And break our backs for very little gain?
Oh is it right for hopeful men to deign
To suffer angst, yet still come back for more
When hope runs out and light begins to wane?
Can’t wait to do it all again.