Slow the years go by
They stole your man off to war
Will you see the child
As you sing battle songs
And it pains me
To think of the soldier’s plight
I will pray
For your heart to guide you home

And she cries for the soldier’s return
Despair of feeling alone for so long
By the light of the candle that burns
For his life
For the day of the soldier’s return

Hear the cannon fire
Lost voices echo in the night
See the spoils of war
Young men are falling, ooh
Hear the [bad word] marching o’er the hill
Love returning and the graves of the battle lie still

And she [bad word] 

Hear the [bad word] marching o’er the hill
Love returning and the graves of the battle lie still

And she [bad word] 

Young men are falling, young men are falling...