"Your friends will never forget you",
the fluttering leaflet said,
"Your friends will never forget you",
and then o'er the valley spread,
The wide sky cowed in sorrow,
and the eyes of the angels wept,
For a promise made by the soldiers
that their leaders never kept.
For soldiers are there when you need 'em,
they're there to suffer and die,
And to make the eyes of the angels weep
in the depths of the tropical sky,
And the soldiers are there to laugh it off,
and shoulder their blistering gun,
And fight anew, in the mud like glue,
and the sweat of the tropical sun.
And soldiers were there, and their mates were there,
their mates, the East Timorese,
Who fought and died beside them
in the night of the jungle trees,
Who fought and bled and suffered
so Australia might still be free,
And the Aussies cried, when their leaders lied,
and poisoned the Timor Sea.
"Your friends will never forget you",
The fluttering leaflet said,
Dropped from the biscuit bomber,
and then o'er the valley spread,
"Your friends will never forget you",
and the eyes of the angels wept
For a promise made by the soldiers,
that their leaders never kept.
Denis Kevans
From 91×ÔÅÄÂÛ̳ Weekly, May 11, 2005.
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