Lyrics to The Green Fields Of France (No Man's Land)
Well, how do you do, private William McBride?
Do you mind if I sit here, down by your graveside?
And rest for a while, in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
I see by your gravestone, you were only nineteen
When you joined the glorious fallen, in nineteen-sixteen
Well, I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Willy McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife
Or a sweetheart behind?
In some loyal heart, is your memory enshrined?
Though, you died back in nineteen-sixteen
To that loyal heart, are you always nineteen?
Or are you a stranger, without even a name?
Enshrined forever, behind some glass plane
Or in an old photograph
Torn, and tattered, and stained
Faded to yellow, in a brown, leather frame
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
The sun shining down
On these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently
And the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished
Long under the plow
No gas, and no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here, in this graveyard, that's still no man's land
The countless white crosses in mute which now stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And to a whole generation who were butchered and damned
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And I can't help but wonder, now Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here, know why they died?
Did you really believe them, when they told you the cause?
Did you really believe that this war would end all wars?
Well, the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain
For Willy McBride, it's all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Do you mind if I sit here, down by your graveside?
And rest for a while, in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
I see by your gravestone, you were only nineteen
When you joined the glorious fallen, in nineteen-sixteen
Well, I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Willy McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife
Or a sweetheart behind?
In some loyal heart, is your memory enshrined?
Though, you died back in nineteen-sixteen
To that loyal heart, are you always nineteen?
Or are you a stranger, without even a name?
Enshrined forever, behind some glass plane
Or in an old photograph
Torn, and tattered, and stained
Faded to yellow, in a brown, leather frame
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
The sun shining down
On these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently
And the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished
Long under the plow
No gas, and no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here, in this graveyard, that's still no man's land
The countless white crosses in mute which now stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And to a whole generation who were butchered and damned
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And I can't help but wonder, now Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here, know why they died?
Did you really believe them, when they told you the cause?
Did you really believe that this war would end all wars?
Well, the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain
For Willy McBride, it's all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again
Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the fife lowly?
Did the rifles fire o'er you
As they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound the Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
