Christmas Eve in 1914, Star's are burning, burning bright,
And all along the Western Front,
Gun's were lying still and quiet,
Men lay doseing in the trenches,
In the cold and in the dark,
And far away behind the lines,
A village Dog began too bark,
Some lay thinking of their families,
Some sang song's while other's were quiet,
Rolling fag's and playing bragg,
Too pass away this Christmas Night,
As they watched the German trenches,
Something moved in No-Man's-Land,
And through the dark there came a Soldier.
Carrying a white flag in his hand,
Then from both sides men came running,
Crossing in too No-Man's-Land,
Through the barbed wire, mud and shell holes,
Shyley stood there shaking hands,
Fritz brought out cigars and brandy,
Tommy brought Corned Beef and fagg's,
Stood there talking, laughing, singing,
As the Moon shone down on No-Man's-Land,
Christmas Day we all played football,
In the mud of No-Man's-Land,
Tommy brought some Christmas Pudding,
Fritz brought out a German Band,
When they beat us at the football,
We shared out all the grub and drink,
And Fritz showed me a faded photo,
Of a brown haired girl, back in Berlin,
For day's after, no one fired,
Not one shell disturbed the night,
For Old Fritz and Tommy Atkins,
They'ed both lost the will too fight,
So they withdrew us from the trenches,
Sent us far behind the lines,
Sent fresh troops to take our places,
Told the guns, prepare too fire,
And next day in 1914,
Flares were burning, burning bright,
The message came, prepare offensive,
Over the top, we're going too night.
And men stood waiting in the trenches,
Looked out across our football park,
And all along the Western Front,
The Christmas guns began too bark,
Men stood waiting, in the trenches,
Looked out across our football park,
And all along the Western Front,
The Christmas guns began too bark.