Irish traditional song lyrics — collected by Beer Belly Band.
Oh my name is Francis Toliver I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war waiting for me after school
To Belgium, and to Flanders, to Germany to here,
I fought for King and country I love dear
‘Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung.
The frozen fields of France were still no songs of peace were sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away
I was lying with my mess mates on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Now listen up me lads says I each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear
He’s singing bloody well you know my comrade said to me
Soon one by one each German voice was joined in harmony
The canons they were silent and the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought respite from bloody war
As soon as they had finished and a reverent pause was spent
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was “Stilly Noct” ’tis “Silent Night” says I
And in two tongues one song filled up the sky
There’s someone coming towards us now our front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side
His truce flag like a Christmas star shone on that plane so bright
As he bravely strolled marched into the night
Then one by one from either side walked into “No Man’s Land”
With neither gun nor bayonet they met there hand to hand
We shared some Christmas brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare lit soccer game we gave them hell
We shared some chocolates, cigarettes and photographs from homes
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Saunders played the squeeze-box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men
Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart who lived that wondrous night
Whose family have I fixed within my sights
It was Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were still as songs of peace were sung
And the walls they built between us to exact the work of war
Had been tumbled and were gone for ever more
My name is Francis Toliver in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas comes since World War I I’ve learned its lesson well
That the ones who call the shots won’t be among the dead and maimed
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same