As the whistle blows,
I get on my feet,
The whistle keeps going TWEET, TWEET, TWEET!
I climb out, and hear a shout,
One of the men has gone down,
Flailing about like a clown,
I’m nearer to the Germans now,
The guns fire, pow pow pow!
I cross halfway,
Trying to keep away,
From the middle ground,
On which there is a mound,
Of dead bodies piled up high,
As I look at them I think Oh my, Oh my!
I’m near to the trenches,
My hand clenches,
Around the trigger of the gun,
That can do so much harm to one,
I pull the trigger,
And the pile of bodies just gets bigger,
What have I done I think in my head,
I have just made another poor man dead.
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