Chloroform The Wild Swans

In the first world war
My grandfather
Is fighting in the trenches

And I can't conceive
Of the things he saw
As his friends were blown to pieces
In a chlorine burst over no-man's land
They shot the boy deserters

And it feels like chloroform
And it feels like chloroform

In the second World War my father served
In the stormy North Atlantic
As torpedoes burst his convoy hid
From the U-boats of the Fascists

The powder burns on the gunners' hood
The pea coats of the fallen
And the boots I bought
From the vintage shop
Were torn off from a dead man

And it feels like chloroform
And it feels like chloroform