THERE is a wood at the top of a hill,

If it's not shifted it's standing there still;

There is a farm a short distance away,

But I'd not advise you to go there by day,

For the snipers abound, and the shells are not rare,

And a man's only chance is to run like a hare,

So take my advice if you're chancing your arm

From High Wood to Waterlot Farm.

Chorus--High Wood to Waterlot Farm,

All on a summer's day,

Up you get to the top of the trench

Though you're sniped at all the way.

If you've got a smoke helmet there

You'd best put it on if you could,

For the wood down by Waterlot Farm

Is a bloody high wood.