As I walked down by the river,
down by the frozen fen,
I saw the grey cathedral
With the eyes of a child of ten
Oh, the railway arch is smoky
As the flying Scot goes by
And but for the education act,
Go, jump across and die.
But war is a bitter beer go,
That all must learn to blow,
And it didn't take long to stop the song
In the dirty Italian snow.
Oh, war is a casual mistress,
And the world is her double bed.
She has a few charms
in her mechanized arms,
But you wake up and find yourself dead.
The olive tree in winter
Casts her banner down
And the priest in white and scarlet
Comes up from the muddy town
Oh, never more will
Jumper watch the flying Scot go by
His fu neral knell was a six -inch shell
Singing across the sky
The Queen of Castile has a daughter
Who won't come home again
She lies in the Grey Cathedral,
under the arms of Spain.
Oh, the Queen of Castile
has a daughter,
torn out by the roots,
Her lovely breast in a cold stone chest,
under the farmer's boots.
Now I like a Spanish party,
and many, oh many the day,
I have watched them swim
as the night came dim,
in Al geciras bay.
Oh, the high Sierra was thunder,
And the seven -branched river of Spain
Came down to the sea to plunder
The heart of the sailor again.
Oh, shall I leap in the river
And knock upon Paradise's door
For a gunner of twenty -seven and a half
And a queen of twenty -four?
From the almond tree by the river,
I watch the sky with a groan,
For Jumper and Kate are always out late,
And I lie here alone.
Thank