1914 when I was a child I heard their marchin' boots young men were singing soldier songs spured on by drums and flutes all men were singing. My mum did cry my father kissed her and said "Goodbye" Four years later the fire came near, the cannons roared all day black boots were running not to the front but the other way a letter came, my mum did cry, her hairs got grey and I didn't know why REFRAIN: Always the black boots marchin' on war isn't far, hear their "hurrah, hurray, hurrah" Hear my warning, hear my warning. Hear my warning, lend me your car 39, a young man I was, I put these black boots on I heard my name when a leader said "This war has to be won". Lady Europe cried to God while she sank into ruins and blood REFRAIN Now I am old, I can't sleep at night I hear these boots again. Out of the pan into the fire and back into the pan. Why do we never learn from history why are we blind when we should see let's break these links of this old chain never, never, never again REFRAIN