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