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Our great attack had failed, we'd nothing left to give,
The wounded hanging in the wire had little time to live.
The German shells came screaming down to shred them as they lay
Abandoned in the Valley of the Shadow.
The battleground that night would look as bright as day
As Verey flares turned blackness into bitter lifeless grey.
The twisted shapes that once were men in senseless patterns lay,
The tenants of the Valley of the Shadow.
The torn and shattered fields, the bits of wire and steel,
No blade of grass or leaf or tree to make the place seem real.
An ancient traveler passing by just couldn't help but say,
This surely is the Valley of the Shadow.
Let pictures of that scene be hung on every wall
In rooms where governments decide if men should stand or fall.
They'd never go to war again if leaders had their say
While looking at the Valley of the Shadow.
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