Dead Soldiers

He poured gasoline on the flowers Goodnight to the stars with the light on Tin cans kept the hours Looks like a man chopping wood for his funeral pyre And the man in the flame looks a lot like you Don't lie to me About your war Ain't I the one gathering all the dead soldiers from your floor? Slurred calls after midnight Met by a voice of one who loves you Ask them what it sounds like Sounds like a man chopping wood for his funeral pyre And the man in the flame looks a lot like you Don't lie to me About your war Ain't I the one gathering all the dead soldiers from your floor? Ain't I the one gathering all the dead soldiers from your floor? And if the dirt soaks up the gasoline New flowers will grow there in the Spring Oh But you friend, become memory of mine Of mine Of mine Of mine Ain't I the one gathering all the dead soldiers from your floor? Ain't I the one gathering all the dead soldiers from your floor?