He tried to travel No Man's Land, that's guarded well with guns,
He tried to race the road of death, where never a coward runs.
Now he's asking of his doctor, and he's panting hard for breath,
How soon he will be ready for another bout with death.
You'd think if you had wakened in a shell hole's slime and mud
That was partly dirty water, but was mostly human blood,
And you had to lie and suffer till the bullets ceased to hum
And the night time dropped its cover, so the stretcher boys could come—
You'd think if you had suffered from a fever and its thirst,
And could hear the "rapids" spitting and the high explosives burst,