"Why should we fight?" he asked me. "Cause England is at war?
Why are they fighting now, Dad, what are they fighting for?
What does it mean to you, Dad, to babe and mums and me?
The Germans won't come here from away across the sea.
So why should you go there, Dad, and leave us here to cry.
Is it 'cause England owns us? Is that the reason why?"
His eyes looked widely at me, I tightly held my son,
And this is how I answered his questions one by one.

"We fight when England calls us, for in her sacred keep
The ashes of our fathers lie in her soil - asleep.
And many times for England they fought that she'd be free
And they are part of England, and so, my son, are we.
And some may pass her by, lad, and some may scorn her hand,
But we must be forever a part of that fair land.
For everything we have, son, that's good, and fine and just
Was washed in British blood and given to us in trust.