Fright is familiar and d**h too common Bullets are shot through drunken bodies The war has awakened the good old demon The short-timers became creepy-crawlies The great war has proved thirsty and hungry The profiteers were after their money The backliners wouldn't stop the production Of the weapons of the lost generation Though they went on the path to glory The short-timers ended up in the trenches And there sure was no room for mercy So many corpses but so few inches Nothing new on the Western front They swore it should be the last blow Suddenly the earth stopped to grunt There sure will be no jam tomorrow The backlines wouldn't stop the production Of the weapons of the last generation