Gather round the glass and grab hold of your ladies
We'll send off Karsky's Soldiers one by one
We'll drink your health by the fire, keep one step ahead of hell
Cuz dead men never see the rising sun

Has it come right down to this your time's run up at last
There's no one left to hear your dying song
And as you board your ship to sail from these forgotten shores
We handful who are left will send you on

May your age be fast, may you find your peace at last
On the other side of death's eternal door
But don't reach for the Cross, your hands aren't clean enough
Just pray that someone settled up the score

Buried in a ditch, just outside the chapel wall
Two diggers sang you Near My God to Thee
And the pastor read a sermon founded in the book of Job
Such words would make a faithless man believe

May your age be fast, may you find your peace at last
On the other side of death's eternal door
But don't reach for the Cross, your hands aren't clean enough
Just pray that someone settled up the score