Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride? Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside? And rest for a while in 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 Or young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the life lowly? Did they sound the death march as the 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 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 in forever behind the glass frame In an old photograph, torn, battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun now it shines on the green fields of France There's a warm summer breeze that makes the red poppies dance And look how the sun shines from under the clouds There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's 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
Ah young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why Do those that lie here know why did they die? And did they believe when the answered the cause Did they really believe that this war would end wars? Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain The killing and dying, were all done in vain For young Willie McBride, it all happened again And again, and again, and again, and againTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
