1917
Saul BleaseOriginal | 2018 |
1917 | PASSCHENDAELE |
Fighting over, a brick coloured stain. After the shells, all that remains A foreign field, a lake of mud. Tinted red, with good mens blood | Fighting over a brick colour’d stain After the shells all that remains A foreign field, a lake of mud Tinted red with good mens blood |
In a place called Passchendaele In a town called Passchendaele | In a place called Passchendaele In a town called Passchendaele |
You feel the dread, you smell the fear. Grasping a photo, of all you hold dear Over the top, once more we go Shot down or drown, the reaper sows | You feel the dread, you smell the fear Grasping a photo of all you hold dear Over the top, once more we go Shot down or drown, the reaper sows |
In a place called Passchendaele In a hell called Passchendaele | In a place called Passchendaele In a hell called Passchendaele |
Withdrawn now from the front Those that have born the brunt Revolution, mutiny What, pray tell will come of me? | Withdrawn now from the front Those that have born the brunt Revolution, mutiny What pray tell, will come of me |
Don’t they know, we’ve had our fill Tell them I don’t wanna kill Tommy’s now, strapped to a gun Field punishment number one | Don’t they know, w’had our fill Tell them, I don’t wanna kill Tommy’s now, strapped to a gun Field punishment number one |
In a place called Passchendaele Through a hell called Passchendaele | In a place called Passchendaele Through a hell called Passchendaele |
March along the Menin Road, Hellfire corner fed and done. Puts down a sandbag, longs for home and blows his foot off with a gun | March along the Menin Road Hellfire corner said and done Puts down a sandbag, marks the hole and blows his foot off with a gun |
The court martial they don’t care, Six minutes, and he’s been tried. At dawn’s light he hears the prayer, The paper square has been tied | The court martial they don’t care six minutes, and he’s been tried At dawn’s light he hears the prayer the paper square, has been tied |
Lack of morale fibre Example needed, to be seen For the honour of the regiment he’s shot dead at just nineteen | Lack of morale fibre example needed to be seen For the honour of the regiment he’s shot dead at just nineteen |