| Folding hills and a silver lane,
|
| A weeping maid, an evening in the rain,
|
| Roses ramble and the trees hang low,
|
| We sit and drink to all good friends we Know.
|
| 'Tis I my love who’ll leave in June,
|
| For twenty five days no more.
|
| Now mark that spot from whence I came
|
| It’s for king and country I’ll come back
|
| Again.
|
| The first season passed without news.
|
| Two weeks gone and still no autumn
|
| Tune.
|
| The leaves they weep for the loss of their
|
| Spring,
|
| The dimming days they serve no better
|
| King.
|
| 'Tis I my love who fought for you.
|
| For twenty five weeks no more.
|
| Now mark that spot from whence I came
|
| It’s for king and country I’ll come back
|
| Again.
|
| The wind blew in a few small drops of Rain.
|
| She followed them 'til her tears ran down
|
| Again.
|
| I’ll do as much as any young man may.
|
| Please don’t sit and mourn I’ll come
|
| Back rich and brave.
|
| 'Tis I my love who fell for you,
|
| After twenty five months no more.
|
| Now mark that spot from whence I came
|
| It’s for king and country I’ll come back
|
| Again.
|
| I’ll come back to you on the longest day.
|
| I’ll come back to you when I’m rich and
|
| Brave.
|
| I’ll come back to you.
|
| Out of the doorway her hands upon her
|
| Head,
|
| The weeping maid, her love was lost or Dead.
|
| Her longest day had only just begun.
|
| She cursed the man who favoured for
|
| The gun.
|
| 'Tis I my love who fell for you.
|
| For twenty five years or more
|
| Now mark that spot from whence we Came
|
| It’s for king and country I’ll come back
|
| Again.
|
| I’ll come back to you on the longest day.
|
| I’ll come back to you when I’m rich and
|
| Brave.
|
| I’ll come back to you on the longest day.
|
| I’ll come back to you |