On the highroad to death Trudging, not eager to get To that city, yet the way is still too long for my patience -teach me a travel song, Master, to march along As we boys used to shout When I was a young scout.
On the highroad to death Trudging, not eager to get To that city, yet the way is still too long for my patience -teach me a travel song, Master, to march along As we boys used to shout When I was a young scout.