Mines going up, and no one can say for us
When it will be; but they waiting some day for us.
Mines going up—oh! folk at home, pray for us
Here with the bloody mines.
When it will be; but they waiting some day for us.
Mines going up—oh! folk at home, pray for us
Here with the bloody mines.
Where are you lying, Sentry?
Wasn’t this your place?
Down below your feet, Sir,
Below your heavy feet, Sir,
With earth upon my face.
Mines gone up, and the earth and the clod on us—
Fighting for breath—and our own comrades trod on us.
Mines gone up—Have pity, oh God! on us,
Down in the bloody mines.
Wasn’t this your place?
Down below your feet, Sir,
Below your heavy feet, Sir,
With earth upon my face.
Mines gone up, and the earth and the clod on us—
Fighting for breath—and our own comrades trod on us.
Mines gone up—Have pity, oh God! on us,
Down in the bloody mines.
