There's a simple little cross out at Mons;
Just a simple little cross out at Mons.
There's a little heap of stones that stands above the bones
Of Private William Jones, out at Mons.

And the cross is just a simple soldier's gun,
With the business end still pointing to the sun.
There's a bayonet 'cross the top, and it doesn't look a lot;
But now that's all he's got out at Mons.

And there are no pretty flowers on the grave;
And there is no fine memorial to the brave.
He's a hero so they say - but he's thrown his life away
For fourteen pence a day, out at Mons.


I found it amongst some music hall material. It was performed about 1919 (I think as a recital rather than a song) by a female performer whose name I have regretably lost.