Will there be anything left of me?

About the multiple ways to die in WWI

Will there be anything left of me?

When they send me home

Or will I be bits and pieces?

So small that no one will know

Killed by weapons my fathers never knew

So radical, So deadly

They have death down to a science

And they have new ways to kill efficiently

Will there be anything left of my lungs?

or will they be eaten away by mustard gas?

With no fresh air to breathe

all we can do is gasp

Will I freeze to death?

Or will my flesh burn?

Between the cold and the flames

When it comes, I hope its not my turn

Will I walk again?

or has trench foot got the best of me?

My feet hurt

we shall soon see.

Will a bullet kill me?

 Or will a bomb?

The possibility is always there

as I enter the Somme

Will I be crushed by a tank?

or strafed by an airplane?

With these new weapons of war

Now on the plain

Will my death be instant?

or will it be slow?

If I'm in No Man's Land

Where no one dares to go

When they bury me

Will I be breathing?

or will I be dead?

For these new weapons are very deceiving

Will there be one hole?

or multiple ones?

If I ever get shot

by one of these new guns

If they shoot me

Will I see him face to face?

or will he be far away?

at another place

If I die

Will they ever find me?

or will you never know?

If they could find me

If I were to die today

I would like to know

Will there be anything left of me?

When they send me home