I was a girl of thirteen when my brothers went off to the war Martin and Robert and Jack, and as i wave from the door I thought who in the world could have brothers as handsome as they Three Australian Light Horsemen I see their proud figures today  Our parents were Irish with no love for England at all But their sons were Australian and each bravely answered the call In their turned up slouch hats, and their feathers and leggings and spurs The Empire as much as my mother knew these sons were hers  And at the going down of the sun and in the morning I will remember them, I can't forget  The mailman brought cards from Colombo and then from Port Said Here's a photo of our Jack in Egypt, his first camel ride And look at young Bobby, in London here crossing The Strand And Martin writes 'mum and dad, life in the army is grand'  When the telegram came with the news about our darling Jack I had the terrible task of breaking the news to my dad With our old draught horse Punch mt father was ploughing the land I ran to the paddock, the telegram clutched in my hand  The Irishman read it, said thank you, now leave me alone Go on back to the house, help your mother, she's there on her own He called, 'stand up now Punch, we have to get on with this job' But i saw his slumped shoulders, and i heard his heart rending sob  And at the going down of the sun and in the morning I will remember them, I can't forget And at the going down of the sun and in the morning I will remember them, I can't forget