For sorrowful ballads they will sing
About those who die not in the arms of a mistress
But about those who bled upon the earth.
Miss not your wives, boys
For they will mourn you no more
When this unholy war ends
And they marry handsome lads.
Don't make friends amongst yourselves, boys
For friends ought to smell good
And you shall reek come tomorrow
As dead men with no morrow.
Shut your tired eyes and rest until dawn, boys
And dream about all the things you wish you had
For as sun appears, a bullet will take it all away
There will be no more breakfast come Sunday.
You've been said that you'll be a hero, yet they lied
No hero is remembered less than a fortnight.
On the battlefield, nothing's wrong and nothing's right
For all you'll witness, dying will be a sweet delight.
Keep your head high as you die,
For freedom soon shall bloom upon your tomb.
Shut your tired eyes and rest until dawn, boys
And dream about all the things you wish you had
For as sun appears, a bullet will take it all away
There will be no more breakfast come Sunday.
You've been said that you'll be a hero, yet they lied
No hero is remembered less than a fortnight.
On the battlefield, nothing's wrong and nothing's right
For all you'll witness, dying will be a sweet delight.
Keep your head high as you die,
For freedom soon shall bloom upon your tomb.
