The Bugler Sent A Call Of High Romance, "Lights Out! Lights Out!" To The Deserted Square. On The Thin Brazen Notes He Threw A Prayer, "God, If It's This For Me Next Time In France ... O Spare The Phantom Bugle As I Lie Dead In The Gas And Smoke And Roar Of Guns, Dead In A Row With The Other Broken Ones Lying So Stiff And Still Under The Sky, Jolly Young Fusiliers Too Good To Die."