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Muddy boots and rain bespattered helmet,
Knapsack, foot-rot, wet putties
Moved through torrential Flanders field -
A blood-red rose in harvest's field
Where springs anew the dallying poppies.
Grandfather killed a German with his bayonet.
He sang the old songs galore
As he marched, to live or die in war.

And then there was peace in our time,
Such peace as God knows war.
Hood and Bismarck floundered in the sea,
Submarine and U-boat none could see.
Red Sun did battle with Red Star,
Each night and day partners in crime
And still they sang the songs galore
As they met, to live or die in war.

The canon makes the seagulls cry
And all our power standing silent there
Can do no more for many slain
Than those before, the far too many slain.
It's a long way to Tipperary...my heart's right there...
My father I'll dirge when he dies
So still we'll sing those songs galore:
Three generations, we will remember war.


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