Well,how do you do,young Willie Mac Bride
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
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in nineteen sixteen
I hope you died well and I hope you died clean,
Or,young Willie Mac Bride,was it slow and obscene ?
Did they beat the drum slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the Dead March
As they lowered you down?
And did the band play "The Last Post And Chorus"
Did the pipes play "The Flowers Of The Forest" ?
Did you leave 'ere a wife or sweetheart behind?
In some faithfull heart is your memory enshrined?
Although you died back in nineteen sixteen,
In that faithfull heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Enclosed and forever behind a glass frame
In a old photograph,torn,and battered and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun,now,it shines on these green fields of France,
There's a warm summer breeze,it 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 was butchered and damned
Ah,young Willie Mac Bride,I can't help (but) wonder why,
Did all those who lie here know why they died
And did they believe when they answered the call
Did they really believe that this war would end wars,
For the sorrows,the suffering,the glory,the pain
The killing and dying were all done in vain
For,young Willie MacBride it all happened again
And again,and again,and again,and again....