An endless bog A sea of mud A foul smelling mire Of blood and guts A wasteland of soggy brown No other colour to be found In this both men and mule drown Was this really once a town? The shells keep on coming Is this place not miserable enough? Cant keep dry, cant keep safe Oh boy are we doing it tough And the rain keeps on falling And the War will not stop We are told to fix bayonets Over sandbags we must hop But our artillery is useless Not enough guns made it to the front So in the bog we get torn to pieces Because our heavy artillery had sunk Damn this war Damn the weather Damn the generals to the rear Damn the bullets Damn the shrapnel Damn this Passchendaele Ridge
damn, bog, artillery, keep, passchendaele