Lyrics

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride? Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside? And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done And 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, Willam McBride, was it slow and obscene? Chorus: Did they beat the drum slowly? Did they sound the pipe lowly? Did the rifles fire o'er you as they lowered you down? Did the bugles sing "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? And though you died back in 1916 To that faithful heart are you always nineteen? Or are you just a stranger without even a name Forever enclosed behind some glass pane In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame? Chorus: Did they beat the drum slowly? Did they sound the pipe lowly? Did the rifles fire o'er you as they lowered you down? Did the bugles sing "The Last Post" in chorus? Did the pipes play "The Flowers of the Forest"? Well, the sun it shines down on these green fields of France The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance The trenches have vanished now under the plow No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now But here in this graveyard it's still No Man's Land And the countless white crosses in mute witness stand To man's blind indifference to his fellow man And a whole generation who were butchered and damned 4. And I can't help but wonder now, Willie 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 wars? Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain For Willie McBride, it all happened again And again, and again, and again, and again ------- Well how do you do, young Willie McBride Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun I've been working all day and I'm nearly done I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen When you joined the dead heroes of nineteen-sixteen I hope you died well and I hope you died clean Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene Chorus : Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down Did the bugles play the Last Post and chorus Did the pipes play the 'Flooers o' the Forest' And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined Although you died back there in nineteen-sixteen In that faithful heart are you ever nineteen Or are you a stranger without even a name Enclosed and forgotten behind the glass frame In a old photograph, torn and battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame The sun now it shines on the 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 it's still no-man's-land The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand To man's blind indifference to his fellow man To a whole generaation that were butchered and damned Now young Willie McBride I can't help but wonder why Do all those who lie here know why they died And did they believe when they answered the cause Did they really believe that this war would end wars Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain The killing and dying was all done in vain For young Willie McBride it all happened again And again, and again, and again, and again