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John Condon
par
Fairport Convention
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Just a day, another day Beneath the Belgian sun Passed grave on grave, row upon row Until I see the name, John Condon Carved in stone with harp and crown Little crosses in the ground And standing there, my silent prayer Is for this boy who died, this soldier Wee lad will not grow old Heroes who won't come home Here they lie in Belgian fields And Picardy Just a recruit in soldiers’ blue From Ireland's shores to here This living hell, this [?] Where young men fell like you, John Condon And all around, the harp and crown Little crosses in the ground Stands up and proves the bitter truth The waste of youth that lies forgotten Wee lad will not grow old Heroes who won't come home Here they lie in Belgian fields And Picardy So tell me John, ’fore I go on What did you come in here for? With Ireland's bold, your life untold Fourteen years old, to die a soldier And all around, the harp and crown Little crosses in the ground What cause for serve, so undeserved Heroes who not grow old Sing out for all their souls Here they lie in Belgian fields And Picardy
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