|
In a foreign field, he lay |
|
Lonely soldier, unknown grave |
|
On his dying words, he prays |
|
Tell the world of |
|
Paschendale |
|
Relive all that he's been through |
|
Last communion of his soul |
|
Rust your bullets with his tears |
|
Let me tell you 'bout his years |
|
Laying low in a blood filled trench |
|
Killing time 'til my very own death |
|
On my face |
|
I can feel the falling rain |
|
Never see my friends again |
|
In the smoke, in the mud and lead |
|
Smell of fear and the feeling of dread |
|
Soon be time to go over the wall |
|
Rapid fire and the end of us all |
|
Whistles, shouts and more gun fire |
|
Lifeless bodies hang on barbwire |
|
Battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb |
|
Be reunited with my dead friends soon |
|
Many soldiers eighteen years |
|
Drown in mud, no more tears |
|
Surely a war no one can win |
|
Killing time about to begin |
|
Home, far away |
|
From the war, a chance to live again |
|
Home, far away |
|
But the war, no chance to live again |
|
The bodies of ours and our foes |
|
The sea of death it overflows |
|
In no man's land, |
|
God only knows |
|
Into jaws of death, we go |
|
Crucified as if on a cross |
|
Allied troops, they mourn their loss |
|
German war propaganda machine |
|
Such before has never been seen |
|
Swear I heard the angels cry |
|
Pray to god no more may die |
|
So that people know the truth |
|
Tell the tale of |
|
Paschendale |
|
Cruelty has a human heart |
|
Everyman does play his part |
|
Terror of the men, we kill |
|
The human heart is hungry still |
|
I stand my ground for the very last time |
|
Gun is ready as |
|
I stand in line |
|
Nervous wait for the whistle to blow |
|
Rush of blood and over, we go |
|
Blood is falling like the rain |
|
Its crimson cloak unveils again |
|
The sound of guns can't hide their shame |
|
And so we die in |
|
Paschendale |
|
Dodging shrapnel and barbwire |
|
Running straight at cannon fire |
|
Running blind as |
|
I hold my breath |
|
Say a prayer symphony of death |
|
As we charge the enemy lines |
|
A burst of fire and we go down |
|
I choke a cry but no one hears |
|
Feel the blood go down my throat |
|
Home, far away |
|
From the war, a chance to live again |
|
Home, far away |
|
But the war, no chance to live again |
|
Home, far away |
|
From the war, a chance to live again |
|
Home, far away |
|
But the war, no chance to live again |
|
See my spirit on the wind |
|
Across the lines beyond the hill |
|
Friend and foe will meet again |
|
Those who died at |
|
Paschendale |
