March of the Bulldog

Thirteen times that flag when down Thirteen times picked from the ground Thrust aloft by last man standing With the mortar shells still landing Wield the colours twenty paces Over fallen friendly faces ’til the mortars take a rest Leaving shrapnel in his chest Man and colours, each goes down To the muddied blooded ground Laboured is his final breath Raised the flag with all he’s left Soon the battle no more loud Flag of Britain flying proud All her fallen sprawled around Oberst doesn’t take it down Shakes his head, he isn’t grinning He says, ‘Wir können nicht gewinnen.’ Oberst = Colonel Wir können nicht gewinnen = We cannot win