Truce, call a truce,
stop all the firing and the fighting.
Christmas morning, 1914,
What would the good Lord say?
Truce, let's all have a truce
Stop all the shelling and the shooting
Frohliche Weihnacht,
Kamerad, Freundschaft
Let's all be friends for a day
In the man -made hell
In the putrescent smell,
in the mines and modern trenches
The men from the Rhine
crossed over the line
For a truce with the Tommies
and the Frenchies
But the very next day
there were hand grenades
There was gunfire, gassing and slaughter
As we blasted the hum
to kingdom come
With machine guns, shelling and mortars
Well it was nice to pretend
we could love our fellow men
With the Christmas angels calling
But the dream turned sour
in a matter of hours
And we made it all up in the morning
Truce, call a truce
Stop all the bitching and backbiting
Who'd leave the lover or
send in the bailiffs
This one day of the year
Truce, let's call a truce,
stop all the sackings and the stealing
Who'd rape a schoolgirl,
or cut off someone's pension,
and spoil all this Christmas cheer?
Well, there's a couple of days
when all the bashers are gays
Who oppress and arrest an d charge us
Or leave us alone to return back home
For a truce with our mothers and
our fathers
But the very next day it's back to the fray
And setting our homes in order
Bashing lesbian mothers and
un derage lovers
Disowning gay sons and daughters
Well, it's quaint to pretend
we could all live as friends
With the Christmas angels calling
But the dream turns out
in a matter of hours
And they make it all up in the morning.