Europe

Little lads and grandsires, Women old with care; But all the men are dying men Or dead men over there.

No one stops to dig graves; Who has time to spare? The dead men, the dead men How the dead men stare.

Kings are out a-hunting— Oh, the sport is rare; With dying men and dead men Falling everywhere.

Life for lads and grandsires; Spoils for kings to share; And dead men, dead men, Dead men everywhere.