I got my wind up honey while laying way out in No Mans Land And when the shells are coming fast, I'm afriad I'm smelling gas Each shell is coming near Seems to have my name in letters large & small And when the shells are flying near I'm afraid I'm stopping here chorus Machine gun bullets are whistling around me, The old tin hat seems mighy small Inside I'd like to crawl And hug the ground like porus plaster My head feels heavy & my knees weak, I bite my tongue every time I speak