Our thoughts are gone
Our hands clasped together
As we travel along
In this grey weather

The boat travels more
The mens head's fell
30 seconds to shore
30 seconds to hell

The beach is landed
The ramp has been lowered
The bullets leave men branded
But we must move foward

Run, run up the beach
No choice but to abandon
The shingle is in reach
Beyond the teeth of the Dragon

Ready your swords
Thrust the spears in the sand
The men come in hoards
The end is at hand

Run up the hill
Peek out the left end
Aim and be still
Or you will lose a friend

Across the fields of fire
Deep into the Trench
No time to recover from the tire
You must save the French

The Rangers are invading
Hitler's had his last chance
Through this big raiding
We're taking back France
 
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