Well, you were Davids father And he was your only son And the new cut peats a-rotting And the work is left undone Because an old man is weeping And old man in pain For David, his son David That will not come again Oh, the letters he wrote you I can see them still Not a word of the fighting Just the sheep on the hill And how you should get The crops in 'Ere the year gets stormier And the bosh have got his body And I was his officer Well, you were only Davids father But I had fifty sons When we went up in the evening Under the arch of the guns And we came back at twilight Oh God I heard them call To me for help and pity That I could not help at all Oh never will I forget you My men that trusted me More my sons than your fathers For they could only see The little helpless babies And the young men in their pride They could not see you dying And hold as you died Happy, young and gallant They saw their first born go But not strong limbs broken And the beautiful men brought low The pitious writhing bodies They screamed "Don't leave me, Sir!" For they were only your fathers But I was your officer