Eric Bogle The Gift Of Years
Well, old friend, here I am, I told you I'd be back. And as usual mate, I'm bloody late; it's 75 years down the track. For the last time here I stand in this familiar foreign land. Back with the mates I left behind, fixed forever in their time.
And all the men and of all the boys who haunt this lonely place Only one of them wears your cheery grin & your Queensland joker's face But I drown in all the bloody dreams of helpless young men's dying screams I feel your hand give my arm a shake & your voice say "steady, mate"
And the country that you died for, mate, you would not know it now The future that we dreamed of, mate, got all twisted up somehow The peace that we were fighting for, the end to stupid senseless war So it couldn't happen to our kids - well old mate, it did.
But thank you for the gift of years & the flame that brightly burned For the time you bought & the lessons taught, tho' often wasted & unlearned "Lest we forget" cry the multitudes, as if I ever ever could So forgive an old man's tears, & thank you for the years.
