On the road to Ypres, on the long road, br Marching strong, br We'll sing a song of Ypres, of her glory br And her wrong. br br Proud rose her towers in the old time, br Long ago. br Trees stood on her ramparts, and the water br Lay below. br br Shattered are the towers into potsherds-- br Jumbled stones. br Underneath the ashes that were rafters br Whiten bones. br br Blood is in the cellar where the wine was, br On the floor. br Rats run on the pavement where the wives met br At the door. br br But in Ypres there's an army that is biding, br Seen of none. br You'd never hear their tramp nor see their shadow br In the sun. br br Thousands of the dead men there are waiting br Through the night, br Waiting for a bugle in the cold dawn br Blown for fight.