NINTEEN SEVENTEEN
Copyright 2006 Berard Music Productions
It was cold and raining
At the wishing well
When the flares went over
Heard the sirens wail
I was standing over
By the mission bell
When the dark and lonely
Opened fire and wailed
It was late November
In the Passchendale
When they shot my leg off
At the gates of hell
I went back to England
There I met a girl
It was in December
Ninteen Seventeen.
