(Taken from Gary Miller's MySpace)
Plans are afoot to film a promotional video over the summer for 'Bold as Brass' (the true story of cornet player & military bandsman and First World War veteran Archibald Frederick Harold Mill (1890-1985) who survived two attacks of mustard gas as an artillery officer but as a result of his injuries was unable to play his cornet again even though he lived into his 90's. 'Bold as Brass' is the second track on my new CD 'Reflections on War'. I hope to post more news on this exciting project as it becomes available.
BOLD AS BRASS
(Music & Lyrics: Gary Miller)
Sat in your uniform looking real class
Striking a pose as bold as brass
You played a mean cornet in a military band
The finest sound in all of the land
The girls all adored you; it was always a lark
When the band came to play in Battersea Park
Polished and smart, a mighty fine gang
All for one, one for all, when the instruments sang
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
An old photograph in sepia tones
Shows all of the boys in impeccable rows
Trombones and euphoniums, marching snares and bass drum
Cornets and tuba and a shield proudly won
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
As the call went out, “there’s a war to be won”
Rifles and bayonets replaced cornets and drums
Down on the platform there was not a dry eye
As they wished you luck as they waved you goodbye
An artillery officer astride a fine mount
Twice gassed ’midst the carnage, still not out for the count
But no longer to blow so bold on your brass
With your lungs constricted by the harsh mustard gas
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
And though sweet music fades, its memory flows
Are you playing in Heaven now God only knows?
As the angels sing when your cornet blows
I’ll be blowing your trumpet wherever I go
(Music & Lyrics: Gary Miller)
Sat in your uniform looking real class
Striking a pose as bold as brass
You played a mean cornet in a military band
The finest sound in all of the land
The girls all adored you; it was always a lark
When the band came to play in Battersea Park
Polished and smart, a mighty fine gang
All for one, one for all, when the instruments sang
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
An old photograph in sepia tones
Shows all of the boys in impeccable rows
Trombones and euphoniums, marching snares and bass drum
Cornets and tuba and a shield proudly won
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
As the call went out, “there’s a war to be won”
Rifles and bayonets replaced cornets and drums
Down on the platform there was not a dry eye
As they wished you luck as they waved you goodbye
An artillery officer astride a fine mount
Twice gassed ’midst the carnage, still not out for the count
But no longer to blow so bold on your brass
With your lungs constricted by the harsh mustard gas
So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud
When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound
And though sweet music fades, its memory flows
Are you playing in Heaven now God only knows?
As the angels sing when your cornet blows
I’ll be blowing your trumpet wherever I go
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