how do you do Private William McBride?
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside?
And rest for awhile neath the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
see by your gravestone, you're only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in nineteen sixteen
Well I hope you died quickly, I hope you died clean
Or poor Willy Mcbride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the pipes lowly?
Did they bugles carry you over as they lowered you
And 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 loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And though you died back in nineteen-sixteen
In that faithful heart are you always nineteen?
you a stranger without a name?
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane
In an old photograph, torn and tattered, and
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.
the sun's shining down on these green fields of
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
There's no gas, no barb wire, there's no guns firing
here in this graveyard that's still no-man's land
The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
The whole generation was butchered and damned
can't help but wonder young Willy McBride
Do those that lie here know why that they died?
And did they really believe you when you told them
Did they really believe that this war would end
the suffering, and the sorrow, the glory of pain
The killing and dying they were all done in vain
For young Willy McBride it's all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again...