[Verse 1]
In Devonshire I was a keeper,
Half my life I lived outdoors.
Using skills my father taught me,
On land that edged the open moors.
[Verse 2]
I d cut the snares of every poacher,
Rising hours be-fore the sun.
I guarded nests and planted cover,
And drove the birds towards the guns.
[Verse 3]
I fought in France like half this county,
With all the skills I brought from home.
I set traps and laid the wire,
The earth grew red as Devon s own.
[Verse 4]
July the first, nineteen sixteen,
We early rose, passed round the rum.
The whistles blew and we broke cover,
And walked in line towards the guns.
We walked in line towards the guns.
[Verse 5]
Back on the land, I hire the beaters,
And when the glor-ious twelfth has come.
We stand in line, we wait in sil-ence,
And walk once more towards the guns.
[Refrain]
We walk to-wards the waiting guns.
We walk to-wards the waiting guns.
We walk to-wards the waiting guns.
