Buried Behind the Lines Lyrics

Draped over the trench, a bloated and sickening corpse
Staring down from above with its leering vacant eyes
Its mouth slightly ajar, perhaps in a mocking smirk
Its skin seems alive with a hundred flies

For a while the war is forgotten
As I ponder this ghastly sight
Am I accustomed to this horror?
Should it still cause me to fright?

His uniform is German, my rifle sights have spotted many
Not for want has my bolt hit home, my trigger squeezed asunder
They are no personal enemy of mine, the German Private soldier
I've shared a beer with one back home in simpler times Down Under

So i feel I must write to the parents of this Soldier
Give him a proper funeral, for his honour as well as mine
Tell them I knew him not but felt sad for this grinning corpse
And mark a map where he was buried within the Australian lines