In the middle of summer nineteen fourteen The young men of europe all in their prime Ahead lay the horrors of a world insane It haunts me now to think about that time One assassination leads to a clash of nations Everybody talkin war. a country worth fighting for But how was anyone to know that hell was in store Sign a dotted line and give a man a gun Dont worry boys, youll all be home by christmas But little by little the lights were going out And heading for the front line the men were listless Wondering in the rain will they ever see home again Slaughter is about to start. best friends are blown apart Never been a bloodier war in memory before Shelling day and night driving men insane Screams of the dyng in no mans land Nowhere to run from the gas attacks And everywhere you turn theres another blind man Losing life and limb. gangrene and rot set in Weapons out to kill and maim. the boys are cryn out in pain Never be the same again. never see an end If you ever get to france see the poppies in the fields Just think about the red of the blood of heroes Who died in the fury of battle day and night The carnage of war all around when the sun rose All the mud and rain. machine gun fire again Never gonna leave that trench. wallow in the mud ad stench Dyin on a stretcher bench. time to say goodbye A generation lost, four deadly years Families left behind to a life of grieving Ten million graves to be left untended Nothing anymore left to believe in Bodies ripped and torn long before I was born But all those fine young men. never see their like again I can vividly recall the pain down through the years
men, war, mud, dyng, bloodier