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