The soldier is so worn and gaunt
thinking about the battle he’s fought
His rifle clutched in cold damp hands
Retracing his fight across the land.

The field is quite there’s no sound
No shells are crashing to the ground
The small arms fire has all gone
Just how long can this go on.

The stench of death is in the air
Parts of bodies lay everywhere
The generals all stay at the rear
Know nothing of a soldiers fear.

The shelling has started we hear once again
Their pushing us on, our strength is drained
The whistle is blown, they fire a shot
come on lads, lets go over the top.

Over the top and through the mud
The shells exploding that’s no dud
The screams and shouts the only sound
As men lay dying we gain more ground.

The land is barren the trees are bare
A million good men are lying there
Some are ours and some are theirs
Show me please who really cares.