Fight, fight, kill
I was taught that this was a thrill.
Gouge, maim, destroy
I was taught no other joy
I marched with my brothers,
The ones in stiff uniform.
Some gone off to fight for their lovers,
Many because it’s all they could learn.
Now I sit by the fire,
And ponder my purpose for a while.
I no longer kill, I no longer destroy,
Gone are the things taught to be my joy.
I consider a final kill, one more gun puff.
Then my wife touches my shoulder. She is enough.

Fight, fight, kill
I was taught that this was a thrill.
Gouge, maim, destroy,
I was taught no other joy.
I walked with my brothers,
The ones with stiffened fur.
Many there to fight with their masters,
Some there as spoils of war.
Now I lay by the fire,
And ponder my purpose for a while.
I no longer maim, I no longer destroy.
Gone are the things taught to be my joy.
I consider a final kill, a final dog fight.
Then my master scratches my ears. I close my eyes to the hard years.