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It was just before dawn |
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One miserable morning in black forty four |
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When the forward commander |
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Was told to sit tight |
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When he asked that his men be withdrawn |
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And the Generals gave thanks |
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As the other ranks held back |
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The enemy tanks for a while |
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And the Anzio bridgehead |
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Was held for the price |
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Of a few hundred ordinary lives |
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And old King George |
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Sent Mother a note |
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When he heard that father was gone |
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It was I recall |
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In the form of a scroll |
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With gold leaf and all |
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And I found it one day |
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In a drawer of old photographs hidden away |
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And my eyes still grow damp to remember |
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His Majesty signed |
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With his own rubber stamp |
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It was dark all around |
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There was frost in the ground |
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When the tigers broke free |
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And no one survived |
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From the Royal Fusiliers Company C |
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They were all left behind |
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Most of them dead |
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The rest of them dying |
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And that's how the High Command |
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Took my daddy from me |