In the cornfields speckled poppies glow in a twilight, moving shadows,
From the High Wood the reaper walks,
a harvest to be gathered,
The skylark's solo fateful cry, the hares alert now scattered,
The pheasant raised by beating drums
in a field prepared for battle

The orders raised at crack of dawn, the regiment made
ready then stood the day beneath a sun,
impatient for their calling,
And now's the time and now's the hour
and now's the chance for glory
The clarion call, the bugles sent
the lancers from Crucifix Corner

The melody of pounding hooves, their harnesses a jangling,
and up the line the squadrons move
a dark parade assembling
Light horse crossing heavy ground, trembling trepidation,
the steaming flanks the nervous hearts require no more
motivation,
fleeting prayers by Crucifix Corner.

Where spent men rise and the wounded cheer at the sight
of their salvation,
The hopes and prayers for the breakthrough
promised this conflict will soon be over

Leaping hedges, rusting broken wire,
through a maze of desperate trenches,
all around the world explodes
as the barrage gains momentum

Shells gouge dark the golden fields,
fresh graves formed in craters;
the shrapnel's jagged deadly thorns
tear troopers from their chargers
Through this wall of smoke and flame
this lethal iron curtain,
to gain the slope, the woods beyond,
where hunting will be certain

I've seen you through these bloody days
and I'll see you through another,
I promise you we will meet again
in the shade of crucifix corner.

Like game that's flushed from standing corn
exposed now in the open,
driven on a tide of fear, outrun, the ranks are broken
Some are stuck with piercing lance others slashed by sabre,
a primal fear engulfs this ancient terror, chill surrender

And now's the time and now's the hour
and now's the chance for glory
We'll carry the field and the ridge beyond
and break these lines before us
We'll charge into the open ground
to the valleys barely yonder
They'll remember when we took the day
when we passed through Crucifix Corner

And then the darkness stole the day
Our hopes were dashed the charge was broken
Those who survived returned to Crucifix Corner

In the cornfields ripening corpses
sweet in a sunrise moving shadows,
From the High Wood the reaper walked
to a harvest duly gathered,
The skylark's solo mournful cry
above spirits torn and tattered,
In a new dawn the whistle blows
on a field prepared
for battle