When Margaret Was Eleven

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[Verse]
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My father sailed away, the band played tunes of glory
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A giant man with ribbons, bedevilled dignity
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A regimental sergeant, the backbone of the Empire
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For god and righteous glory, bound for High Germany

[Chorus]
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Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
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They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
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"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
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That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

[Verse]
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My childhood passed away midst the tales and lurid stories
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Of manufactured glories and inhuman gallantry
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I asked, "When is war over?", but no one deemed to answer me
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And Margaret played that dreaded tune called High Germany

[Chorus]
      C                G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                 G    F
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

[Instrumental]
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[Verse]
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My father made it home, but he came without his reason
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Two eyes of molten madness, a senseless fool of war
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"He's just a child," my mother cried, "to be dressed in full regalia
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And paraded as a hero, home from High Germany"

[Chorus]
      C                G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                 G    F
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

[Chorus]
                       G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                       G    F
They served us war for breakfast, aye, and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
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There'll be no tunes of glory for Margaret and me