Morning starts with killing a rat They crawl around in the trench Gobbling those of us who didn't Drown in mud asleep Wounded and emaciated We're waiting for the whistle to blow Our captain right here in front of us Lies dead in the shell hole Ashes to ashes,
dusto to dust Bayonets to rifles Counterattack Like a golem of ashes and clay We arise from a ruined trench Our lifes worth no more than The bloody mud of passchendaele We shall move out of our holes Like worms of the earth I lay down in a flooded shell hole Our counterattack has failed There was only one last clip With 5 British.
303 Jerrys sing their song in the trench And slowly comes my night If you're stuck at the no man's land Soon you will feed the rats
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