Half the front's out there, half-buried Some of them alive The rest of us, we freeze and pray for spring "dearest mother, fill my lungs till victory or food arrives" What else can we do out here but sing?
Sixteen years and never been kissed Singing out the days Jumped the queue and the waiting list Singing out the days Civvy suits and new recruits, clean your rifle, polish your boots Learn to give the correct salute
Singing out the days Singing Singing Singing, singing out the days We march until we drop Then we go over the top Singing, singing out the days Lice and rats along the trench Singing out the days Coffin nails to cover the stench Singing out the days For thirty weeks we hold the line While all the toffs get reassigned Apart from the war, we're doing fine Singing out the days Singing Singing Singing, singing out the days We march until we drop Then we go over the top
Singing, singing out the days Songs for drowning out the shells Singing out the days Songs to prove you're alive and well Singing out the days Songs for our humanity in the face of inhumanity To demonstrate your sanity Singing out the days Singing Singing Singing, singing out the days We march until we drop Then we go over the top Singing, singing out the days
Compositores: Louise Watts, Judith Abbott (Chumbawamba), Allan Mark Whalley, Neil Ferguson (Chumbawamba) ECAD: Obra #6425772