Lyrics
THE ANZAC HORSEMEN
by Noel Downs ã Copyright
It is a chilly ANZAC morning,
Not long before the dawn,
I am marching for my fallen comrades,
Both to remember them and mourn,
In front of me a soldier is leading,
With a dark bay mare of remount stock,
She has a strong and sturdy frame,
And good length from hip to hock,
They are my grandson and his horse,
And they wear their lighthorse garb with pride,
Tightly pressed with a polished shine,
And a quick and easy stride,
My memories all flood back to me,
And all my mates are there,
They stand with me through out the service,
The last post and all the prayers,
They are all dressed up in their uniforms,
All young and full of pride,
Laughing, gay and lively,
Like they were before they died,
They speak of battles won and lost,
And the places we had been,
About the horses and the long hard rides,
Back when I joined under age at sixteen,
I sit my weary bones down,
On a close by concrete chair,
Closed my eyes for a moment to rest them,
And once more my mates are all there,
All mounted now up on fine horses,
Before me they form up in line,
My best mate bluey is leading a chestnut,
A mare that I knew to be mine,
I had buried her back then in Egypt,
Before I had left to come home,
It near killed me having to shoot her,
But no way could I leave her there on her own,
I got up and patted her shoulder,
She nickered and nudged at me with her nose,
It was then I swung into the saddle,
And when they left she and I rode,
The young soldier unsaddled his own mount,
And placed the saddle blanket under his grandfather's head,
With his jacket he covered his features,
For he knew that the old man was dead,
But he knew his grandfather was happy,
As the tears welled up in his eyes,
For he too had seen all those horsemen,
And his grandfather mount up and ride.
