The girl from the café who wore black eyeshadow

by Samuel Derrick Rosen

She must be mighty sick
Of trumpets and drums by now
The tin soldiers
That playfully berate her
The ones that know
When to compliment
When to insult

She hears the Battle
Hymn of the Republic
Over and Over
Against the game
That all too familiar
Advancing, and retreating
Advancing, and retreating.