This is the waltz, this is the waltz, the waltz
A simple dance that holds entranced
Experienced feet shuffling lightly on the ballroom floor.

This is the waltz, this is the waltz, the waltz
You step and turn, so easy to learn,
As with innocent tunes we conceal the sirens of the war.

It’s a dance that remains out of step with its time
When a hundred thousand boots march through mud and through grime
And the trenches are cold
Like the ballrooms of old
Where we danced…

This is the waltz, this is the waltz, the waltz,
My awkward plight, discerning left from right,
How counting to three became tricky when I first looked in your eyes?

This is the waltz, this is the waltz, the waltz,
But my darling I fear I’ve lost all musical ear
For the dissonant fury of war is an air that never dies.

And the humble musicians that have played for their Lord
Must they live by the bow just to die by the sword?
And if I burn in these fires
Will the heavenly choirs
Sing of love?

This is the waltz, this is the waltz, the waltz,
I was once lost and scared, and driven to despair,
But as I wait in the depth of the trenches,
There is stillness in the air.