This is a place of tranquillity, a place where you soak up the burning sun,
This is a place of loving families where smiles are shared in tons,
Beach balls in the air, give a joyful children's eclipse,
This is a place where dreams are nurtured and histories are cherished.
Let's go to the beach...
Travel across in a war lord metal casket
Knowing it's the enemy that's being sheltered,
Nerves are transcending into quick triggers,
The horror bestowed on them was unforgiving.
They witnessed the allied invasion that stimulated death,
Eisenhower and Montgomery wearing the national crest,
Where is the loving arms from their mothers and fathers?
Instead racking up the numbers of homeless son's and daughter's.
Tears trailing white silk skin, against the glorified black polish,
The sea blending into a blood orange from the dying burning bodies,
Bullets flying, piercing poetic soldiers, grasping their last letters to home,
Young men screaming their endless fears, that they are never again seeing their mum.
Shells buried in the sand, as a ghostly heroic treasure,
Teenage dreams became a sandy beach bloody massacre,
A metal detector sweeps across to pick up machine gun trophies,
White stones laid on the ground, reminds families they died hopelessly.
Like a message in a bottle,
His body was in a coffin,
His letter read,
Sorry if I end up in a box,
Shed little tears mother,
It was my choice,
So when the time comes,
Fill the streets with your flagged togetherness,
Party like you have earned the right to live free,
When I look down on you
Each year I'll witness rejoice,
For my trip to the beach
Was my choice...
Mother, now you can see,
I fought for people's freedom,
At the beach of Normandy...