and she gives off a terrible stench -- 1911

Speranza 1911 when the golden sun sinks in the hills and the toil of a long day is o'er though the road may be long in the lilt of a song I forget I was weary before far ahead, where the blue shadows fall I shall come to contentment and rest and the toils of the day will be all charmed away in my little grey home of the west there are hands that will welcome me in there are lips I am burning to kiss there are two eyes that shine just because they are mine and a thousand things other men miss it's a corner of heaven itself though it's only a tumble-down nest but with love brooding there why no place can compare with my little grey home in the west I've a little wet home in a trench where the rainstorms continually drench, there's a dead cow close by with her feet in towards the sky and she gives off a terrible stench. underneath, in the place of a floor, there's a mass of wet mud and some straw, but with shells dropping there, there's no place to compare, with my little wet home in the trench.