We gone and lost another one

Today

We gone and lost another one
A comrade dead and gone
Her red battered body
Was a red tattered flag
Shining a little
Bringing us on
And getting it wrong
                                      (sometimes)

Today

We gone and lost another one
A comrade dead and gone
His black boiled body
Soft like peaches, hard like the working week
Teaching us something
Laughing a lot

But now
What he does
Is rot.