We enlisted, signed up, didn’t make a fuss
Singing Tipperary we marched off to war,
Days of glory ahead were all that we saw.

Little did we know of what lay ahead,
A man-made place full of death and dread
Where heroes stood and cowards fell,
There in that stinking noisy muddy hell.

We know not of that evil war
Where blood and guts and gore
Befall ally and foe the same,
Where corpses lie without a name.

Bullet, bomb bayonet or shell,
All belong in this nightmare hell,
The earth is raped by warfare’s greed
No more a meadow richly tree’d,

Days to months and months to years,
At home they wait, close to tears,
With sometimes letters reaching home,
Or new found widow feeling all alone.

Surely peace will come in time,
Once more will the church bells chime,
War memorials will be built,
Engraved with names to the hilt.

Some came home but not in mind,
Some to whom war had not been kind,
Some never to come home at all.
Some to wars cruelty they did fall.

That finger that pointed once our way
Is responsible for what we are today
If by chance we made it back at all
While all around comrades took the fall.

The word ‘peace’ is so fragile,
In fact it only takes a while,
Before some war is fought again
Somewhere far off on a foreign plain.

We honour and remember those that fell,
That didn’t return their story to tell
Bow our heads a silent prayer to say
‘Thank you for the freedom we have today’.