There’s dust upon the mandolin 
The strings are rusting like the guns
And the hands that played those melodies
Are lying in the ground
I don’t get many visitors
And very few would even care
That there was a life and a beating heart
The bullets tore apart

The Unknown Soldier has a name
I’m a bold young man from Birmingham
I’m glad you’re here and we could meet
I’m Fred from Norman Street

I was fighting on the western front
For most of 1917
And I kept a cool head under fire
When we went through the wire
I’d been disciplined before
They said I had a bad character
But they needed bold young men with guns
For this war to be won

But I never took to orders well
I told the Captain to go to hell
But ask the lads and they will say
I never was afraid

Oh to be home in Norman Street
Far from the battle cries and bombs
I’d take my mandolin to Lilly May’s
And sing her an old Irish song
Then I took the notion to slip away
And walk to old Calais

But they caught me on the road
And took me to a soldier’s court
Sentenced to be shot at dawn
One lovely summer’s morn’

‘Cos I never took to orders well
I told the Captain to go to hell
But ask the lads and they will say
I never was afraid

Oh to be home in Norman Street
Far from the battle cries and bombs
I’d take my mandolin to Lilly May’s
And sing her an old Irish song
Far from the front
Sitting by the home fires again
And singing to the flame in Lilly’s eyes
Playing on those old golden strings

The Unknown Soldier has a name
I’m glad you’re here and we could meet
I’m Fred from Norman Street

The Unknown Soldier has a name

The Unknown Soldier has a name

Words and music Ray Cooper