Called up to Camberley in '39
To play his part on the French front line
He was full of hope, overflowing with tears
He'd been on the earth barely nineteen years
But he was willing
Sailed across the Channel for to meet his foe
Marched from Le Havre to Forge-les-Eaux
There were sounds of battle that assailed his ears
They moved that night with the taste of fear
To the killing
Got dug down in Deauville
His young life on the line
Had time to think about her
His first love he'd left behind
The battle lost
At heavy cost
To life and limb
But not for him
He was caught
And marched away
To darker days
A prisoner
He walked to Poland
With thousands of others
Their common plight
Would make them brothers
For years of cold and fear
And lonely tears
For four long years
The Allies came
To liberate
They found him in rags
In a pitiful state
But alive
Taken at the very start
Not freed until the last
Lest we forget the sacrifice
That young men make for what seems right
We lose them
Confuse them
Abuse them
Young rose waiting on the English shore
To hold her boy, now a man of twenty-four
Hard of hearing, no feeling
What do we know of pain and healing?
Hard of hearing, hard of hearing.
(Brooker) Called up to Camberley in '39 To play his part on the French front line He was full of hope, overflowing with tears He'd been on the earth barely nineteen years But he was willing Sailed across the Channel for to meet his foe Marched from Le Havre to Forge-les-Eaux There were sounds of battle that assailed his ears They moved that night with the taste of fear To the killing Got dug down in Deauville His young life on the line Had time to think about her His first love he'd left behind The battle lost At heavy cost To life and limb But not for him He was caught And marched away To darker days A prisoner He walked to Poland With thousands of others Their common plight Would make them brothers For years of cold and fear And lonely tears For four long years The Allies came To liberate They found him in rags In a pitiful state But alive Taken at the very start Not freed until the last Lest we forget the sacrifice That young men make for what seems right We lose them Confuse them Abuse them Young rose waiting on the English shore To hold her boy, now a man of twenty-four Hard of hearing, no feeling What do we know of pain and healing? Hard of hearing, hard of hearing. Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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