Marching to glorious war through the throng
Of countless women in cheers and in song,
Little did we know as we waved to the shore
That our beloved country, we'd see nevermore.
For years we waded through the mud and the stench,
In this ramshackle home, that was our death trench.
Brothels where full, with the new troops emerging,
No young boy, can face death a virgin.
The enemy, or so we'd been sold.
Climb over the trenches, brave and bold,
We mow them down, in a maelstrom of fire
Knowing only too soon, it's our turn to expire.
Every soldier, a family in pain and in fear
Of the telegram, so synical it's clear,
"your loved one died for King and Country",
Not cold in a ditch, horrified abysmally.
Join up for honour and glory was the cry,
But we weren't paid for honour, we were paid to die.
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