We come to the end of the darkest night
So soon the dawn. And the light
Me and my Lancashires, we might know how to fight
But now I feel
Terrified
My Sergeant shares a cigarette
He’ll not need orders from me yet
There’s a hundred men will do whatever I suggest
I’m their Captain
I know best
I can’t breathe
Not properly
I learned to captain on the Downs
With a hundred Boy Scouts running round
My place in history was shaped by Baden Powell
But they made the camp
A battleground
There’s a boy here waiting on the step
His face as pale as a robin’s egg
He shifts his pack, I can hear the duckboard creak
There’s light to see his tears, and I know
What that means
I can’t breathe
Not properly
I can’t breathe
Not properly
© MarkGSongs 2011
