I Hear the Army Marching On

I hear the army marching on

But the enemy’s still here

We run to catch up

And beg them to come back

And they swat us away

The war is won
The job is done

The enemy’s not here

We go back to town
And they’re sitting around

Choking on food

And having their beer

The army’s away

And it’s fresh in the day

And the enemy’s still here

We find them in our houses

We find them in our brooms

They’re less of themselves now

There’s no denying that

But they’re not going anywhere

And they resent our chants

And our songs

And our rhyme about them

They hate that we call them

‘The enemy’

And indicate that they

Have no right

To be here

This place that they burned

This place that they sacked

They say there was no war

They say there was no attack

Something about seeing them

Sitting in our cafes

Laughing like it all meant nothing

For us and for them

For the people we thought

They were fighting for

Back home

How can they stay?

How will they?
We won’t give them work

We won’t give them jobs

We’ll lay and we’ll wait

And then one night

We’ll pounce

We’ll throw them

Outside the gates

We don’t need an army

For that

But we get word

From back where the capital is

To leave well enough

Alone

Not to cause problems

Because the war is, in fact, done

So why not move on

But how?

How with the enemy

Walking our streets

And whistling

At our girls

Nobody feels right

Nobody can settle down

The war is still alive

In the bumps

On our skin

That prickle

When we hear that whistle

Or a lewd comment

Coming down from an apartment

That’s been rented

To them

We beg the landlords

Not to let them in

But they need the money

Now that the war’s done

And the enemy

Can afford to pay

Their capital sends them

Funds for their service

While ours says

There is no money

There’s nothing

To send

They’ve bought up

All the food

And they’re loud

And they’re hurt

And they need

And they ask

Without shame

For the things

That they want

And they need

And they eat

And they’re here

And they’re clear

That they’re not going

Anywhere

Off in the fields

We hear the ghosts

From the army

Who couldn’t march away

Down roads

That lead nowhere

The song

Begins again

A song sung by those

Who would rather not

Look back