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The Oldest Lie

by Mackenzie//Bidgood

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about

A little number to mark the centenary of the outbreak of 'The war to end all wars'.

lyrics

I am a lad that's inclined to ramble
I'll work no more in this county manse
Follow me lads, we'll rant and revel
From the Malvern hills to the fields of France

Take your rifle on your shoulder
Take your partners for the dance
We'll return, a little older
Wiser from the fields of France

Kiss me softly, lovely Jenny
Though till now you n'er spared a glance
I'll return to you at Christmas
A hero from the fields of France

Feel the mortars through the trench wall
See the lines of men advance
Watch them rise, watch them fall, boys
Or jigger to the rattlesnake's dance

They say we're dying for our country
That every good man must take up arms
I don't see the Chief, or the King, boys
Standing with us in these fields of France

Don't weep for me though I died a stranger
In this forgotten field of France
Just don't let them tell you there is no danger
Or dress my death in high romance

For there's always money, boys, when money's needed
But those who wager never take the chance
The oldest lie, still the strongest
Is that men should die for high finance

There's always money, boys, when money's needed
To fight another bloody war
The oldest lie, still the strongest
Is that the poor should die for the rich man's cause.

credits

released April 7, 2014
Words and music by Jonathan Bidgood
Arr. Mackenzie//Bidgood
www.mackenziebidgood.com

Photograph Justin Brown www.passthroughglass.com

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Mackenzie//Bidgood London, UK

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