Recorded by The Dubliners in "Prodigal Sons" (1983)
My father said farewell [var. sailed away], and the band played tunes of glory
A giant man with ribbons and bedeviled dignity.
A regimental sergeant the backbone of the Empire
For God and righteous glory, bound for High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
My childhood passed away midst tales and lurid stories
Of manufactured glories and inhuman gallantry
I asked "when is war over?" But no one deemed to answer me
And Margaret played the dreaded tune called High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
My father made it home but he came without his reason
Two eyes of molten madness a senseless fool of war
He's just a child - my mother cried to be dressed in full regalia
And paraded as a hero home from High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
There were tunes glory for Margaret and me
A giant man with ribbons and bedeviled dignity.
A regimental sergeant the backbone of the Empire
For God and righteous glory, bound for High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
My childhood passed away midst tales and lurid stories
Of manufactured glories and inhuman gallantry
I asked "when is war over?" But no one deemed to answer me
And Margaret played the dreaded tune called High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
My father made it home but he came without his reason
Two eyes of molten madness a senseless fool of war
He's just a child - my mother cried to be dressed in full regalia
And paraded as a hero home from High Germany.
Sweet Lord I was just seven, when Margaret was eleven,
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
Your father's gone campaignin' was a way of not explainin'
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
There were tunes glory for Margaret and me
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