And though the fires are burning 
under the pillars of learning 
i hear the wind is still howling 
"go home" 
and looking out of your window 
you see a brave new tomorrow 
and no one is standing in your way 

when everyting is done 
the war is never won 
he's standing all alone 
the russian winds blow cold 
his story must be told 
the great one-handed brag 

through all the bodies decaying 
you come up smelling of roses 
you take the final decision 
to carry on 
you think of sweet josephine 
back home where fields were green 
and no sweat, no blood, no stench, 
no mortal coil. 

when everything is done 
the war is never won 
he's standing all alone 
the russian winds blow cold 
his story must be told 
the great one-handed brag 
oh 
and the boys are all in retreat 
you'd better wise up and face defeat 
and half a million men lie dying 

when everyting is done 
the war is never won 
he's standing all alone 
the russian winds blow cold 
the story must be told 
the great one-handed brag