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Folding hills and a silver lane, |
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A weeping maid, an evening in the rain, |
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Roses ramble and the trees hang low, |
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We sit and drink to all good friends we |
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Know. |
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'Tis I my love who'll leave in June, |
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For twenty five days no more. |
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Now mark that spot from whence I came |
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It's for king and country I'll come back |
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Again. |
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The first season passed without news. |
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Two weeks gone and still no autumn |
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Tune. |
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The leaves they weep for the loss of their |
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Spring, |
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The dimming days they serve no better |
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King. |
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'Tis I my love who fought for you. |
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For twenty five weeks no more. |
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Now mark that spot from whence I came |
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It's for king and country I'll come back |
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Again. |
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The wind blew in a few small drops of |
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Rain. |
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She followed them 'til her tears ran down |
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Again. |
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I'll do as much as any young man may. |
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Please don't sit and mourn I'll come |
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Back rich and brave. |
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'Tis I my love who fell for you, |
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After twenty five months no more. |
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Now mark that spot from whence I came |
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It's for king and country I'll come back |
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Again. |
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I'll come back to you on the longest day. |
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I'll come back to you when I'm rich and |
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Brave. |
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I'll come back to you. |
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Out of the doorway her hands upon her |
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Head, |
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The weeping maid, her love was lost or |
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Dead. |
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Her longest day had only just begun. |
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She cursed the man who favoured for |
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The gun. |
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'Tis I my love who fell for you. |
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For twenty five years or more |
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Now mark that spot from whence we |
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Came |
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It's for king and country I'll come back |
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Again. |
|
I'll come back to you on the longest day. |
|
I'll come back to you when I'm rich and |
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Brave. |
|
I'll come back to you on the longest day. |
|
I'll come back to you |
