I woke up in the trenches with the smell of mustard gas
Stench of fallen comrades all around
Such a handsome price you pay for the real estate of war
Ten thousand die for one square foot of ground
And here I am ....
Dragging myself through the bodies
Here I am ....
Bleeding, hungry and cold
I don't mind fighting for home
And I don't mind dying alone
But do I have to die on the fields of Flanders
Guns had started speaking and I heard somebody scream
If the armor plate don't stop them we'll catch hell
Some men started running and I guess I fell behind
'Cause the last thing I remember was the shell ....
(c) 1984 Robert James
(p) 1984 Angry Lion Publishing (SOCAN)