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The sound of a clear Blackbird call
Echoed through the trees and over the fields making me stop and fall 

Upon my knees his song followed on and on
An angelic sound of music  ‘twas the Blackbird song

I cried tears and tears listening on and on
The sounds of pure, crystal life; beauty found in this world of war where the madness of men goes on and on 

Through the smokey mist I could not see this beauty sing
To me there was never on earth a more wonderful thing

After days and nights of bullets, screaming, tears and bombs
Hearing the crying fields through the restless nights as death lingers on and on

Knowing for poor souls out there who’ll never make it back
Dying afraid and alone; dying on their backs

In my trench I wait for the next whistle call
I see in the eyes of men that their souls are due to fall

The rumbling war in the distance sings a dinging, disturbing song
Down the lines of trench as fighting begins and goes on and on

I find myself waiting for fate to play it’s hand
When the whistle calls I struggle to find courage to again enter no-mans land

I find myself waiting for the sounds of the Blackbird song.........
Through tears I find some beauty in war listening to this dead mans’ song

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