C O U L D   I   F O R G E T  ?

It's the eleventh of November - I hear
The crowds march by,
Paying homage to those gallant men,
Who went out there to die;
The Mothers march with men who fought -
All eyes with tears are wet;
I'm told I must remember - I'm trying to forget!

My thoughts fly back to Flanders - I hear my comrades scream,
Then see a shell plough through their ranks;
There's mud - where they had been!
I see a foot, an arm, a face! And eyes all glazed and set;
I'm told I must remember - I'm trying to forget!

The night is black - we're creeping near, with
bombs, and faces grim;
A few more yards, we'll reach our goal - then hideous death hurl in!
A star-shell bursts - then Hell's let loose - we're caught as in a net;
I'm told I must remember - I'm trying to forget!

It's Somme! We're being driven back - my pals fall by the way;
The dead are buried in a heap - while stretchers work all day;
I hear a groan - another gone to join his God
And yet,
I'm told I must remember - I'm trying to forget!

For many months that seemed like years, we
slaughtered and were killed,
Like beasts we raved - like beasts we slaved, as
Human blood we spilled;
Our lives were just a gamble - not worth a penny bet;
I'm told I must remember - I'm trying to forget!

The word goes round that peace is signed - we
throw our hats on high;
We stand and clasp each others hands, and
Many strong men cry;
We start for Home! We leave behind, those thousands - with regret;
I'm told I must remember - there's no need! I can't forget!

Remembrance Day! The Poppies! And the little
Crosses bare!
All take me back to Flanders, and the pals of mine left there!
I'm maimed and blind! No pleasures find! My life as black as jet!
I'm told I must remember - I wish I could forget!