Poor little soldier, the war is all done (So) tug off your medal and empty your gun They found you a pillow to lay down your head So hang up your hang-ups and climb into bed
There’s a chime on the hour and a light in the hall And a picture of nothing in a frame on the wall And there’s rain on the rooftops to the North of the shire And the trains run the coal through the heart of the night
You fought for your country you fought for your queen Now everyone’s happy, now everyone’s free And God help the bastard who says it’s not so And God help the bastard ‘cos what does he know?
Sleep in the knowledge that England is brave For each loss of breath is a life that you saved The angels will guard you, they’ll tend to your brow Poor little soldier, come lay your head down
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