Oh Passchendaele

Oh Passchendaele, what have you become?
Your gentle fields of green, a scarred and bloody scene
Oh Passchendaele, our best and bravest sons
From far across the sea, lie fallen at your feet

Called to the firing line, stumbled through the dead and dyin'
Shell holes and bitter, freezing rain tumbles down
Men of the 3rd Brigade huddled in the break of day
Rise from the mud and storm, the guns on the ridge

Oh Passchendaele, what have you become?
Your gentle fields of green, a scarred and bloody scene
Oh Passchendaele, our best and bravest sons
From far across the sea, lie fallen at your feet

Our ruthless artillery fell short of the enemy
And those of us survived, ordered over the top
Hung up in tangled wire, cut down in machine gun fire
Cries for the stretcher bearers, God help us all

Oh Passchendaele, what have you become?
Your gentle fields of green, a scarred and bloody scene
Oh Passchendaele, our best and bravest sons
From far across the sea, lie fallen at your feet

Our officers have all been slain
Thousands lost and nothing gained
All I see is desolation

Oh Passchendaele, what have you become?
Your gentle fields of green, a scarred and bloody scene
Oh Passchendaele, our best and bravest sons
From far across the sea, lie fallen at your feet



Credits
Writer(s): Garth Ivan Richard Porter, Colin Keith Robert Buchanan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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