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Happed in mist these twenty-five eventful years seem to me now
And in all but one, a friendly gaze, a ghost of gladness by my side
With horse and plough, I marched with pride of the purest kind
Then a blink of light and it's Flanders field and the end of time

Through the flash and cannon roar, I saw my Christine's smiling eyes
And with no more thought of blood or
shell, I made my way to hold her near
But truth and honour's henchmen found me leaving here
A madman's rave, a coward's grave for the volunteer

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But in his eyes flew snipe and
curlew, and in his nose blew moistened air
In his mind the wood the king stole,
that robbed the land and laid it bare
But in his heart his lover's memory, singing on their wedding night
Where once the parks flowed thick with
corn, that sullen tune is with him now

Happed in mist, the king's own rifles, ready, aim
The flowers of the forest are a' we'ed awa'

Writer(s): michael marra

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