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Wounded entertainers diggin’ in at flanders Breathe in the strangers and dream of the frail nurse That sings the Marseillaise At night Softly folding blankets tight And i get you it’s hard, i get you it’s hard, marchons and marchons, monsieur The germans wore grey and you wore white All the brits were rarin’ for a fight I get you it’s hard, I’m shocked and i’m scarred Thats how they get ya, there’s a dead note floating in the measures There’s a punk kid coughin’ on the stretchers There’s a weeping swell of arkansas for arkansas That’s how they get you And i hope darling i don’t upset you But the pale faced doctor knows she sings for all of us And d*** it sir, she calls for us now The germans wore grey and you wore blue And all the bougies all stared at you Bedside confessions where doctors hit paydirt And gabe gets on the faders and says hes gonna blow my mind Pan the german front hard right Bring the howitzers up soft in the night till the trenches alight Thats how they get ya And i hope darling i don’t upset ya There’s a hun deep inside all the heifers There’s a weeping swell of arkansas, for arkansas And i’m out of excuses, there’s a form that i’m using It’s worn, it’s torn, and the eyes are threadbare gone I’m out of excuses
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