The Tears of the Old.
The tears of the old, the tears of the brave, The tears for the comrades that they could not save. They left behind loved ones and stood tall and straight Returning to family as victims of fate.
For those left at home, such grief they did know, As letters arrived and mourning did grow. Photos long faded still stand in the halls, As time marches on and dust slowly falls.
A generation lost , for country and king A pride slowly fading,they no longer sing, Of times, how the young men, once standing tall Now sit and remember the pain of it all.
The Aussie and Kiwi, the Scot and the Pom, All brothers together, they marched on and on. A purpose together, a battle to win, Not all will return, to their loved ones again.
Keep in the memory the pride they once knew, Such strength in believing of what they must do, Some still remain, where they did fall, Young men of a country that answered the call.