I’m the tree on the battlefield – a pitiful sight br I watch as the bullets fly to left and to right br I’m the tree that’s watched blood flow from every man’s heart br I’m the tree on the battlefield, half blown apart. br br It’s many the year I’ve stood firm in this soil br Where centuries farmers, long time they did toil br There used to be ten of us handsome and tall br And I’ve stood and I’ve wept as each brother did fall br br In No man’s land, sadly my fate is to be br Twixt the lines of the English and High Germany br Each brother in arms, as he fights for the cause, br Thinks he’ll vanquish the foe in the war to end wars br br A young English soldier with valiant heart br Lay low ‘neath my branches, his mates blown apart br I could feel in his hands how he’d tended with care br Of the soil in a fine English Garden somewhere br br In a moment of dreaming, as the gaff it raged high br Together we went to that place, him and I br Once more in the sunshine and peace of the day br He tended bright flowers, he brought in the hay br br Then a shell shook the earth, Back in Flanders we lay br It had taken his leg and my branches away br We stood broken together, together we fell br Him and me on that battlefield half blown to hell br br I’m the tree on the battlefield – a pitiful sight br I watch as the bullets fly to left and to right br I’m the tree that’s watched blood flow from every man’s heart br I’m the tree on the battlefield, half blown apart.