THE SOMME (Paul O’Brien)
A war wife’s lament for the letters she never got and her concern for the well-being of her husband.
Me Johnny has gone off
To fight at the Somme
Its six months this Christmas
Since he’s been gone
I’ve ne’er got a letter
Not even a note
Since he waved me goodbye
From the passenger boat
Although he’s a waster
I’m worrying still
If the bullets don’t get him
the madmoissells will
I’ve read in the papers
It really is hell
The bullets and bayonets
The mortars and shells
I hope that his officer’s
Honest and good
And he’s saying his prayers
Like a good Paddy should
Although he’s a…
The baby is lying
Asleep in his cot
Wrapped in a shift
Sure he’s all that I’ve got
When I sing him to sleep
He gives me a smile
And I tell him that daddy’ll be
Home in a while
I hope he remembers
To keep his head down
Whenever the Hun sends
His barrages down
To keep his gun clean
And when we went walking
Around Stephen’s Green
I hope that he’s missing
Me petticoat strings
Me blouse and me bodice
And feminine things
The courting and talking
And evenings long
When he’d ask me to sing him
His favourite song