Our scents were like dirt,
drifting through the air my horses boots are grey and so is my hair.

The sad day of 1914 still drifts through my mind until 1918 its still alive.
The gun shots went bang and the blood splats around.
Those poor orphans sat alone waiting for freedom under the ground.
I wish I could help but im not alone waiting for freedom I wish I was home.
Goodbye for now I wish I could see the freedom in front of me.