Eede
|
|
And though the fires are burning
|
under the pillars of learning
|
i hear the wind is still howling
|
"go home"
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and looking out of your window
|
you see a brave new tomorrow
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and no one is standing in your way
|
|
when everyting is done
|
the war is never won
|
he's standing all alone
|
the russian winds blow cold
|
his story must be told
|
the great one-handed brag
|
|
through all the bodies decaying
|
you come up smelling of roses
|
you take the final decision
|
to carry on
|
you think of sweet josephine
|
back home where fields were green
|
and no sweat, no blood, no stench,
|
no mortal coil.
|
|
when everything is done
|
the war is never won
|
he's standing all alone
|
the russian winds blow cold
|
his story must be told
|
the great one-handed brag
|
|
(verse en francais)
|
[ Roughly translates as:
|
In colorful blue
|
On the big oceans
|
I hear the wind blow
|
Telling me
|
It's the retreat ]
|
|
oh
|
and the boys are all in retreat
|
you'd better wise up and face defeat
|
and half a million men lie dying
|
|
when everyting is done
|
the war is never won
|
he's standing all alone
|
the russian winds blow cold
|
the story must be told
|
the great one-handed brag
|
|
-----------------
|
The Great One-Handed Brag
|
| Cutting Crew |
