No Man’s Land --- Eric Bogle
Well [G]how d’you [Em]do Private [C]Willie Mc[Am]Bride?
Do you [D]mind if I [D7]sit here down [C]by your grave-[G]side?
And I’ll rest for a [Em]while in the [C]warm Summer [Am]sun;
I’ve been [D]walking all [D7]day, Lord, and [C]I’m nearly [G]done.
And I see by your [Em]gravestone you were [C]only nine-[Am]teen
When you [D]joined the glorious [C]fallen in [G]nineteen-six-[D7]teen.
Well I [G]hope you died [Em]quick and I [Am]hope you died clean,
Or [D]Willie Mc[D7]Bride, was it [C]slow and ob-[G]scene?
Did they [D]beat the drum [D7]slowly? Did they [C]sound the fife [G]lowly?
Did the [D]rifles fire [D7]o’er ye as they [C]lowered you [D]down?
Did the [C]bugles sing “The Last Post” in [G]chorus? [Em]
Did the [G]pipes play “The [C]Floowrs of the [D7]Fo-[G]rest”?
And did [G]you leave a [Em]wife or a [C]sweetheart be-[Am]hind?
In [D]some faithful [D7]heart is your [C]mem’ry en-[G]shrined?
Although you [Em]died back in [C]nineteen-six-[Am]teen,
To [D]that loyal [D7]heart are you for-[C]ever nine-[G]teen?
Or are you a [Em]stranger without [C]even a [Am]name?
For-[D]ever en-[C]shrined be-[G]hind some glass [D7]pane?
In an [G]old photo-[Em]graph torn and [Am]battered and stained,
[D]Fadin’ to [D7]yellow in a [C]brown leather [G]frame?
Did they [D]beat the drum [D7]slowly? Did they [C]sound the fife [G]lowly?
Did the [D]rifles fire [D7]o’er ye as they [C]lowered you [D]down?
Did the [C]bugles sing “The Last Post” in [G]chorus? [Em]
Did the [G]pipes play “The [C]Floowrs of the [D7]Fo-[G]rest”?
Well, the [G]sun’s shining [Em]now on the [C]green fields of [Am]France.
The [D]warm wind blows [D7]gently and the [C]red poppies [G]dance.
The trenches have [Em]vanished long [C]under the [Am]plow.
No [D]gas and no [D7]barbed wire, no [C]guns firing [G]now.
But here in this [Em]graveyard it’s [C]still no man’s [Am]land.
The [D]countless white [C]crosses in [G]mute witness [D7]stand
To [G]man’s blind in-[Em]difference to [Am]his fellow man,
And a [D]whole gener-[D7]ation who were [C]butchered and [G]damned.
Did they [D]beat the drum [D7]slowly? Did they [C]sound the fife [G]lowly?
Did the [D]rifles fire [D7]o’er ye as they [C]lowered you [D]down?
Did the [C]bugles sing “The Last Post” in [G]chorus? [Em]
Did the [G]pipes play “The [C]Floowrs of the [D7]Fo-[G]rest”?
And I [G]can’t help but [Em]wonder, now [C]Willie Mc[Am]Bride,
Do [D]all those who [D7]lie here [C]know why they [G]died?
Did you be-[Em]lieve when they [C]told you the [Am]cause?
Did you [D]really be-[D7]lieve that this [C]war would end [G]wars?
Well, the [Em]suffering, the [C]sorrow, the [G]glory, the [Am]shame,
The [D]killing, the [C]dying; it was [G]all done in [D7]vain.
For [G]Willie Mc[Em]Bride it’s all [Am]happened again,
And a-[D]gain, and a-[D7]gain, and a-[C]gain, and a-[G]gain.
Did they [D]beat the drum [D7]slowly? Did they [C]sound the fife [G]lowly?
Did the [D]rifles fire [D7]o’er ye as they [C]lowered you [D]down?
Did the [C]bugles sing “The Last Post” in [G]chorus? [Em]
Did the [G]pipes play “The [C]Floowrs of the [D7]Fo-[G]rest”?