THE ZOMBIES
BUTCHER'S TALE (WESTERN FRONT 1914)
(Chris White)
A butcher
yes that was my trade
But the
king's shilling is now my fee
A butcher I
may as well have stayed
For the
slaughter that I see
And the preacher
in his pulpit
Sermon:
"Go and fight, do what is right"
But he
don't have to hear these guns
And I'll
bet he sleeps at night
And I
And I can't
stop shaking
My hands
won't stop shaking
My arms
won't stop shaking
My mind
won't stop shaking
I want to
go home
Please let
me go home
Go home
And I have
seen a friend of mine
Hang on the
wire
Like some
rag toy
Then in the
heat the flies come down
And cover
up the boy
And the
flies come down in
Gommecourt,
Thiepval,
Mametz
Wood, and French Verdun
If the
preacher he could see those flies
Wouldn't
preach for the sound of guns
And I
And I can't
stop shaking
My hands
won't stop shaking
My arms
won't stop shaking
My mind
won't stop shaking
I want to
go home
Please let
me go home
Go home
