"Music is my mistress, and she plays second fiddle to none."
-Duke Ellington

One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way,
To find the answer to the mystery,
They found his body lying where it fell on that day,
Preserved in time for all to see,
No brave new world, no brave new world,
Lost in this place, and leave no trace.

iron maiden - stranger in a strange land

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.