Away John Miller

Away John Miller,
Away John Moore;
I hope you know what you’re fighting for.
More than the King’s shilling
pressed in your hand,
‘tis an awful price for a family man;

Empty the towns of
the men and the boys,
empty the pubs
of the song and the noise;
kiss the babbies for you’ll kiss them no more,
the next thing you’ll kiss
is a foreign shore;

Away John Miller,
Away John Moore;
I hope you know what you’re fighting for.

© Copyright D.Archer October 2011

This poem has always had a strange musical quality which is odd because I can’t play a note. Personally I sing a strange kind of Geordie sea shanty type tune and for the love of me I can’t understand why. If you can sing or play an instrument try and put a tune to this please.

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