Lead Vocals: Chris White



Keyboards: Rod Argent



Bass: Chris White



Drums: Hugh Grundy



Guitar: Paul Atkinson











A butcher yes that was my trade



But the king's shilling is now my fee



A butcher I may as well have stayed



For the slaughter that I see







And the preacher in his pulpit



Sermon: "Go and fight, do what is right"



But he don't have to hear these guns



And I'll bet he sleeps at night







And I



And I can't stop shaking



My hands won't stop shaking



My arms won't stop shaking



My mind won't stop shaking



I want to go home



Please let me go home



Go home







And I have seen a friend of mine 



Hang on the wire 



Like some rag toy 



Then in the heat the flies come down 



And cover up the boy



And the flies come down in 



Gommecourt, Thiepval, 



Mametz Wood, and French Verdun



If the preacher he could see those flies 



Wouldn't preach for the sound of guns







And I



And I can't stop shaking



My hands won't stop shaking



My arms won't stop shaking



My mind won't stop shaking



I want to go home



Please let me go home



Go home