When the last war is waged, and the
last post is played
When the last boy is laid, and the last prayer is said
When the last mother cries and the last tear drop dries
When the last son is gone, we'll now remember the Somme.
When the last word is spoken and the
last promise is broken
When the last wind has blown and the last bird has flown
When the last trumpet sounds to raise the dead from the ground
Those who fell on the Somme together on that morn.
And they know when their gone, on that
first of July morn
Always in their prime, forever caught in time.