Just a day, another day beneath the Belgian sun
past grave on grave, row on row, until I see the name Fred 'Tay' Line
carved in stone, your grave not found, little crosses in the ground
and standing there, my silent prayer is for a boy who died a soldier.
wee lad who'll not grow old
heroes that don't come home
here they lie in Belgian fields and Aubers Ridge.
Just a recruit, in soldier's boots, from Rushden's streets to here
this living hell, this Aubers Ridge, where young men fell like you, Fred 'Tay' Line
and all around, the graves are found, the crosses in the ground
stand up in proof, the bitter truth, the waste of youth that lies forgotten.
wee lad who'll not grow old
heroes that don't come home
here they lie in Belgian fields and Aubers Ridge.
Now tell me Fred 'fore I go on, what did you come here for?
with Rushden's bold, your life untold! 19 years old to die a soldier?
and all around, the graves are found, the crosses in the ground
what cause was served? so undeserved.
heroes that don't come home
sing out for all their souls
for here they lie in Belgian fields and Aubers Ridge.
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