In the area of Flanders, my misery grows.

Lots of shooting guns making our grenades explode and blow.

While they explode they make me jump afraidly.

On those muddy, messy trenches, make me feel like home's memory.

Resting on my squished room hearing those larks singing a melody.

Lots of us in pain crying making me feel worried I'd be next..

Did I know my family and wife would miss me.

War begins, we get our guns for our night.

And we get pain but reminds us of our fight.

Ready and brave for our pain.

You'll hate it there.