Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death, Rode the six hundred. Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Forward, the Light Brigade! Was there a man dismayd? Not tho the soldiers knew Some one had blunderd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volleyd and thunderd; Stormd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flashd all their sabres bare,Flashd as they turned in air Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army while All the world wonderd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro the line they broke;Cossack and Russian Reeld from the sabre-stroke Shatterd and sunderd. Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volleyd and thunderd; Stormd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonderd. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! Or a more modern (but nowhere near as good take) Youll take my life but Ill take yours too Youll fire your musket but Ill run you through So when youre waiting for the next attackYoud better stand theres no turning back. The Bugle sounds and the charge begins But on this battlefield no one wins The smell of acrid smoke and horses breath As I plunge on into certain death.The horse he sweats with fear we break to run The mighty roar of the Russian guns And as we race towards the human wall The screams of pain as my comrades fall. We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground And the Russians fire another round We get so near yet so far away We wont live to fight another day. We get so close near enough to fight When a Russian gets me in his sights He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow A burst of rounds take my horse below. And as I lay there gazing at the sky My bodys numb and my throat is dry And as I lay forgotten and alone Without a tear I draw my parting groan.
Posted on: Fri, 25 Oct 2013 14:23:56 +0000
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