Billy Clark was seventeen When he went off to war. He kissed his mum and dad goodbye And walked out through the door. He kissed his girl at the station And wiped away her tears. He said that he’d be back again If it took a thousand years.
He headed for the trenches, For Afghanistan. Gallipoli, The Falklands. Beirut and Vietnam. He set off for Dunkirk, Agincourt and Troy. Passchendaele would make A man out of a boy.
A million Billy Clarks Have gone away to war. Old men sit and shake their heads. They’ve passed this way before.
He was in the thick of it Right from the very start. But Billy was a brave boy With a patriotic heart. Billy fought his hardest But he was in a fix. These were guns and tanks he faced Not childhood toys and sticks.
Now, Billy was no coward, But he was scared as hell. No boy should have to bury His comrades where they fell. It took a thousand years For Billy to return And still the burning question is: When will we ever learn?
When will this crazy world unite And watch each others’ back? When media screams the headline: ‘GREEN MEN FROM MARS ATTACK!!!!’.
A million Billy Clarks Have gone away to war. Old men sit and shake their heads They’ve seen it all before.