Those who fought….

Well how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while ‘neath the warm summer sun?
I’ve been walking all day, and I’m nearly done!
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in 1916.
I hope you died well,
And I hope you died clean,
Oh Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene?

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind?
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
Although you died back in 1916
In that faithful heart, are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Enclosed then forever behind a glass pane,
In an old photograph torn, battered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

The sun — now it shines on the green fields of France;
There’s a warm summer breeze, makes the red poppies dance.
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds!
There’s no gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard, it’s still no man’s land;
The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man —
To a whole generation that were butchered and damned.

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

Oh young Willie McBride, I can’t help wonder why —
Do those that lie here know why they died?
And did they believe when they answered the call,
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
For the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the pain,
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
For young Willy McBride it all happened again:
And again, and again, and again, and again!

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

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