The Deadbeat

Lyrics
He dropped,—more sullenly than wearily Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat And none of us could kick him to his feet; Just blinked at my revolver, blearily; —Didn't appear to know a war was on Or see the blasted trench at which he stared "I'll do 'em in," he whined, "If this hand's spared I'll murder them, I will." A low voice said "It's Blighty, p'raps, he sees; his pluck's all gone Dreaming of all the valiant, that aren't dead: Bold uncles, smiling ministerially; Maybe his brave young wife, getting her fun In some new home, improved materially It's not these stiffs have crazed him; nor the Hun." We sent him down at last, out of the way Unwounded;—stout lad, too, before that strafe Malingering? Stretcher-bearers winked, "Not half!" Next day I heard the Doc.'s well-whiskied laugh: "That scum you sent last night soon died. Hooray!"
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Credits
- Writers
- Wilfred Owen