Walker sees the mist rise Over no man's land He sees in front of him A smashed up waste ground There are no fields or trees No blades of grass Just unhurried ghosts are there Hanging in the wire
Walker's in the wire Limbs point upwards There are no birds singing The white cliffs of Dover
There are no trees to sing from Walker cannot hear the wind Far off symphony To hear the guns beginning
Walker's in the mist Rising over no man's land In the battered waste ground Hear the guns firingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
