Well hello Hans I was passing so I stopped to say hello You don't know me And there's no reason now why you should ever know You died here In some prison camp, conditions weren't too bad Was it a wound, Hans Or maybe the four walls sent you mad You were twenty That's what it says upon the stone I'm trying to imagine What it's like to die all alone At twenty Before you've had a chance to be half grown I was passing so I stopped to say hello
Can you see the child, Hans That little girl who laughs upon your grave Not yours, Hans Not the ones you went to war to save See her father He proudly picks her up and sits her down On your tombstone To take the photographs that he can show around He was a young boy At the very moment that you died Maybe you had a little child To walk proudly by your side Or a young wife Who tried so hard, but still she cried Can you see the little girl laugh on your grave
So goodbye, Hans I'll maybe come again some other time Because somehow That grave that's yours could easily be mine You see, there's wars, Hans Men are trained to fight each other still It goes on, Hans It always has, it seems it always will But I must go now The young men milling round and making so much noise And as you remember When they're together boys will always just be boys Not like you, Hans They've never been a country's broken toys