The Deserter
The Pukka Orchestra
Popularity ยท Low
Listen
YouTube
0:00 / 0:00
Loading YouTube player...
Lyrics offset
Synced
Lyrics
I'm sorry I done it, Major!"
We bandaged the livid face
And led him out ere the wan sun rose
To die his death of disgrace
The bolt-heads locked to the cartridge
The rifles steadied to rest
As cold stock nestled at colder cheek
And foresight lined on the breast
"Fire!" called the Sergeant-Major
The muzzles flamed as he spoke
And the shameless soul of a nameless man
Went up in the cordite smoke