It’s starting again,
yet again, yet again

winds are still scything
across fields of men

The corn’s
to be cropped
there are lives
to be stopped
Yes It’s starting again.
yet again, yet again.

It’s starting once more,
once more, once more

There’s a knock at the door
at the door, at the door

Your father,
his father,
even before-

each generation
a knock at the door.

Now life is so sweet,
so sweet, so sweet
yet there’s trouble to come
there’s trouble to meet

you can’t step away
if it’s your job to stay

stand on your feet
the trouble to greet
doing your job
and earning your pay

It’s starting again,
yet again, yet again

winds are still scything
across fields of men

clouds now are high
in cerulian sky

yet it’s still time to die
yet it’s still time to die.

The wheel is still turning
as wheel’s always will,
though weapons
have changed
they’re still here to kill

each generation
finds it again
when winds
are still scything
across fields of men.

the drummer boy’s beat
the bright bugles blow
the bands
are playing

it’s our turn to go

we march off again
as we always do

for soldiers you see
there’s nothing that’s new.

Some will return,
some will be lost
and though you may say
they knew of the cost

the youth of a nation
is falling again
winds are still scything
across fields of men.

When will we learn
will we learn,
will we learn,

to stop the winds
blowing
to stop
the wheel’s turn

It’s starting again,
yet again, yet again

winds are still scything
across fields of men

The corn’s
to be cropped
there are lives
to be stopped

Yes It’s starting again.
yet again, yet again.