They ask me where I've been,
                                              What I've done and what I've seen,
                                              But what can I reply
                                              For who knows it was not I,
                                              But someone just like me
                                              Who went across the sea,
                                              And with my head and hands
                                              Killed men in foreign lands.
                                              A shot, and then a scream,
                                              No, it must have been a dream!
                                              Such a way I could not act
                                              Had my senses been intact...
                                              I lay here on my bed,
                                              Hearing voices of the dead
                                              Whispering beside my cot,
                                              Whispering, "Forget me not!".

                                              They ask me where I've been,
                                              What I've done and what I've seen,
                                              But what can I reply
                                              For who knows it was not I?