Joss Stone Lyrics

Well, how do you do, William Mcbride? Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside? And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun, I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done. And I see by your gravestone you were only 19 When you joined the great fallen in 1916, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean Or, Willie Mcbride, was it slow and obscene? Did they beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly? Did the rifles fired over you as they lowered you down? Did the bugles sound the last post in chorus? Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest? And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined? And, though you died back in 1916, And that loyal heart are you forever 19? Or are you a stranger without even a name, Forever enshrined behind some glass pane, In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained, And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame? The sun's shining down on these green fi