Louis was my dearest friend
Fighting in the Anzac trench.
Louis ran forward from the line,
And I never saw him again.

Later in the dark
I though I heard Louis' voice
Calling for his Mother, then me,
But I couldn't get to him.

He's still up there on that hill.
20 years on that hill.
Nothing more than a pile of bones,
But I think of him still

If I was asked I'd tell
The colour of the earth that day;
It was dull and browny-red,
"the colour of blood" I'd say.