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Well, lyrics, at least:
Green Fields Of France (Eric Bogle) Well how do you do Private William McBride Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside And rest for awhile beneath the warm summer sun I've been walking all day and now I'm nearly done I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916 Well I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean Or, young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the Death March as they lowered you down Did the band play "The Last Post And Chorus" Did the pipes play "The Flowers Of The Forest"
Did you leave 'ere a wife or a sweetheart behind In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined And although you died back in 1916 In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen Or are you a stranger without even a name Enclosed forever behind a glass pane In an old photograph, torn, and battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the Death March as they lowered you down Did the band play "The Last Post And Chorus" Did the pipes play "The Flowers Of The Forest"
Ah the sun now it shines on these green fields of France The warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance And look how the sun shines from under the clouds There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now But here in this graveyard is still No Man's Land And countless white crosses in mute witness stand To man's blind indifference to his fellow man To a whole generation that was butchered and damned
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the Death March as they lowered you down Did the band play "The Last Post And Chorus" Did the pipes play "The Flowers Of The Forest"
Ah young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why Did all those who lay here really know why they died And did they believe when thay answered the call Did they really believe that this war would end wars For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain The killing and dying were all done in vain For, young Willie McBride, it all happened again And again and again and again and again
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the Death March as they lowered you down Did the band play "The Last Post And Chorus" Did the pipes play "The Flowers Of The Forest"
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