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The Green Fields Of France (No Man's Land)

Eric Bogle
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"No Man's Land" - An Irish parody by Crawford Howard and Fintan...
WILLIE McBRIDE'S REPLY

My dear friend Eric, this is Willie McBride,
Today I speak to you across the divide
Of years and of distance, of life and of death,
Please let me speak freely with my silent breath.
You might think me crazy, you might think me daft,
I could have stayed back in Erin, where there wasn't a draft,
But my parents they raised me to tell right from wrong,
So today I shall answer what you asked in your song.

CHORUS:
Yes, they beat the drum slowly, they played the pipes lowly,
And the rifles fired o'er me as they lowered me down,
The band played "The Last Post" in chorus,
And the pipes played "The Flowers of the Forest."

Ask the people of Belgium or Alsace-Lorraine,
If my life was wasted, if I died in vain.
I think they will tell you when all's said and done,
They welcomed this boy with his tin hat and gun.
And call it ironic that I was cut down,
While in Dublin my kinfolk were fighting the Crown.
But in Dublin or Flanders the cause was the same:
To resist the oppressor, whatever his name.

CHORUS

It wasn't for King or for England I died,
It wasn't for glory or the Empire's pride.
The reason I went was both simple and clear:
To stand up for freedom did I volunteer.
It's easy for you to look back and sigh,
And pity the youth of those days long gone by,
For us who were there, we knew why we died,
And I'd do it again, says Willie McBride.

CHORUS

NO MAN'S LAND

Have you heard the old song about Willie Mc Bride?
If I hear it again, it'll turn me insides!
For its sung in the Springtime and its sung in the Fall
- And mostly by people who can't sing at all!
You go out for a drink on a Saturday night
For a pint and a song, and things are alright
Until some drunken bowsey sits down by your side
And he asks for the one about "Willie Mc Bride"!

Well you say you don't know it but this will not do
For now he's determined to sing it to you
So he spills half your drink and starts off in a key
That was never invented on land or on sea
And as time goes by sure the whole thing gets worse
For you soon realise that he knows every verse!
With his arm round your shoulder - 'cos now he's your friend
He's going to sing the damn thing to the end!

You go out to the Gents for a quarter of an hour
And you watch the TV in the old public bar
And then you come back thinking that he will tire
But he's still going on about gas and barbed wire!
And ten minutes later you're all in a trance
For he's up to his oxters in the Green Fields of France
The crowd are all quiet, you wont hear a peep
Does he not realise they've all gone to sleep?

Ah Willie Mc Bride, why the hell did you die?
The trouble you'd have saved if you'd come back alive
And got a wee job or signed "on the brew"*
We'd not have to listen to songs about you!
But still I don't know but I'm glad that you're dead
With the green fields of France piled on top of your head
For the trouble you caused since the day that you died
- Shooting's too good for you, Willie Mc Bride!


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