Over ‘No Man’s Land’ march the Ghosts of Agincourt
Keeping time with bows in hand as the big guns pound and roar
We are unafraid like the brave old knights of yore
We are soldiers of the Lord
Every side is singing its own battle hymn
Whether British, French or German we’ve all put our faith in Him
When God is on your side the other side can’t win
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging with his sword up in the air
Or Joan of Arc with her flaming hair
With an angel and a prayer we will not despair
We are soldiers of the Lord
The pieces are moving; the knights are in the sky
The King is in his counting house far behind the lines
We are simply pawns, made to do or die
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
The Spirit of War amidst a dazzling light
Lifts our hearts and puts our enemies to flight
Donkeys bray and we charge with a lion’s might
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
With a need for signs and wonders an urban myth takes wing
Behind a choir of angels we sing-a-ling-a-ling
Let the Bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
Keeping time with bows in hand as the big guns pound and roar
We are unafraid like the brave old knights of yore
We are soldiers of the Lord
Every side is singing its own battle hymn
Whether British, French or German we’ve all put our faith in Him
When God is on your side the other side can’t win
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging with his sword up in the air
Or Joan of Arc with her flaming hair
With an angel and a prayer we will not despair
We are soldiers of the Lord
The pieces are moving; the knights are in the sky
The King is in his counting house far behind the lines
We are simply pawns, made to do or die
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
The Spirit of War amidst a dazzling light
Lifts our hearts and puts our enemies to flight
Donkeys bray and we charge with a lion’s might
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
With a need for signs and wonders an urban myth takes wing
Behind a choir of angels we sing-a-ling-a-ling
Let the Bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
We are soldiers of the Lord
Whether Saint George charging…
Contributed by dq82 - 2017/4/6 - 12:58
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Reflections on War