Mother I can’t hear you through the voices of the earth
I am the son you held so close when you had given birth,
I am the one who held your hand while we walked in the rain
And Mother, I would wish so much to walk with you again,
So quietly the Western front, where legions of us lay
As our poppy covered blanket covered all our mud and clay,
And though I’d love to see your face, I cannot lift the veils
So we’ll wait until we meet once more upon those heavenly dales.
Father I was brave for you, and kept my chin up too
And Father know, I cherished you, so deeply and so true,
I am the one you sat with on our village cricket green
So long ago and far away, the matches we have seen,
Father, though I sleep here now, I still can hold your hand
And sometime when the sun is bright, I know we’ll understand,
That freedom bears a heavy price, and such a heavy loss
But still I feel so honoured, as I sleep beneath the cross.
My dear friends we were slumbering beneath the flowered blood
But they lifted us and took us home, just as I knew they would,
Although my final resting place is honoured every year
I’ll stand and I’ll salute you all, for everything we share,
My brothers now and always, are immortal ageless lines
Written on forever’s parchment, with a heavenly ink that shines,
So Mother don’t you fret for me, I’ll never go away
We’ll meet upon the golden fields of each remembrance day...