These feet no longer dent the earth, at ease behind an oak veneer
Attend a comrades footfall firm, and nod along beside his ear
My wife she has a party with the old woman next door
Each month that there's no letter from the Office of the War
She dusts off my tin helmet, kept up from the mines
So it's ready for some action when I get back from the line
Waiting for eleven, I'll make the angels wait
Postpone my trip to heaven for a dry land dinner date
The latter of these parties, summing four dozen and four
Grow rather more dejected than the several before
My boots still in the doorway have stiffened up and cracked as if naughtily predicting
That I wasn't coming back
Waiting for eleven outside the aerodrome
Swapped our pass to heaven for one for home sweet home
They sent a copper medal, their thanks for to extend
For on account of me sticking in right up to the end
And it's that she lies down next to when darkness now descends in place of a dear husband
A breadwinner and friend
Waiting for eleven in a carriage in the woods
To stem the queue for heaven to us sounds bloody good
Bullets fall from yellow air, voices lift from murmured prayer
Great army scuttled and victory declared
As my bones sink 'neath the soil victors stand and make their plans
Survey the acres of their spoils: what for to build on this prize land
Gardens copious with growth, chapels tall with gilded naves
Castles wrapping with glinting moats, condemned red rubble and unmarked graves
MDH - The End of World War I Lyrics
MDH - The End of World War I Lyrics
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These feet no longer dent the earth, at ease behind an oak veneer
Attend a comrades footfall firm, and nod along beside his ear
My wife she has a party with the old woman next door
Each month that there's no letter from the Office of the War
She dusts off my tin helmet, kept up from the mines
So it's ready for some action when I get back from the line
Waiting for eleven, I'll make the angels wait
Postpone my trip to heaven for a dry land dinner date
The latter of these parties, summing four dozen and four
Grow rather more dejected than the several before
My boots still in the doorway have stiffened up and cracked as if naughtily predicting
That I wasn't coming back
Waiting for eleven outside the aerodrome
Swapped our pass to heaven for one for home sweet home
They sent a copper medal, their thanks for to extend
For on account of me sticking in right up to the end
And it's that she lies down next to when darkness now descends in place of a dear husband
A breadwinner and friend
Waiting for eleven in a carriage in the woods
To stem the queue for heaven to us sounds bloody good
Bullets fall from yellow air, voices lift from murmured prayer
Great army scuttled and victory declared
As my bones sink 'neath the soil victors stand and make their plans
Survey the acres of their spoils: what for to build on this prize land
Gardens copious with growth, chapels tall with gilded naves
Castles wrapping with glinting moats, condemned red rubble and unmarked graves
Attend a comrades footfall firm, and nod along beside his ear
My wife she has a party with the old woman next door
Each month that there's no letter from the Office of the War
She dusts off my tin helmet, kept up from the mines
So it's ready for some action when I get back from the line
Waiting for eleven, I'll make the angels wait
Postpone my trip to heaven for a dry land dinner date
The latter of these parties, summing four dozen and four
Grow rather more dejected than the several before
My boots still in the doorway have stiffened up and cracked as if naughtily predicting
That I wasn't coming back
Waiting for eleven outside the aerodrome
Swapped our pass to heaven for one for home sweet home
They sent a copper medal, their thanks for to extend
For on account of me sticking in right up to the end
And it's that she lies down next to when darkness now descends in place of a dear husband
A breadwinner and friend
Waiting for eleven in a carriage in the woods
To stem the queue for heaven to us sounds bloody good
Bullets fall from yellow air, voices lift from murmured prayer
Great army scuttled and victory declared
As my bones sink 'neath the soil victors stand and make their plans
Survey the acres of their spoils: what for to build on this prize land
Gardens copious with growth, chapels tall with gilded naves
Castles wrapping with glinting moats, condemned red rubble and unmarked graves
Writer: Michael Humphrey
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid