The wind is blowing in the air.
O ld, tired muscles start to ache,
Shell bombs blow, lives they take.
R esting in ditches, cold and hard.
No sign of love, not even a card.
L onely, shivering minds alike.
The War's intention is as sharp as a spike.
D ashing around with enemies at aim.
Fighting to survive that's the name of the game.
W arroirs soon turn away.
The ground that turned cold where brave men lay.
A dead soldier is laying on the ground,
Soft and still, not making a sound.
R ed Alert! Red Alert! The enemy is shown.
The shell bombs are activated, then viciously thrown.
O ne in ten soldiers die,
Dead on the floor they usually lie.
N ew recruits come, some only sixteen.
Against the hard mud they're ordered to lean.
E nemies finally give up in the frost,
But in World War One many lives were lost.