Prince Louis Battenberg is burning the Admiralty lights down low 
Silently sifting through papers sealed with a crown 
Admiral Lord Fisher is writing to Churchill, calling for more Dreadnoughts 
The houses in Hackney are all falling down 
And my grandmother sits on the beach in the days before the war 
Young girl writing her diary, while time seems to pause 
Watching the waves as they come one by one to die on the shore 
Kissing the feet of England 

Oh the lights of Saint Petersburg come on as usual 
Although the air seems charged with a strangeness of late, yet there's nothing to touch 
And the Tsar in his great Winter Palace has called for the foreign news 
An archduke was shot down in Bosnia, but nothing much 
And my grandmother sits before the mirror in the days before the war 
Smiling a secret smile as she goes to the door 
And the young man rides off in his carriage, homeward once more 
And the sun sets gently on England 

Ah the day we decided to drive down to Worthing, it rained and rained 
Giving us only a minute to stand by the sea 
And crunching my way through the shingles, it seemed there was nothing changed 
Though the jetty was maybe more scarred that I'd known it to be 
And Mandi and I stood and stared at the overcast sky 
Where ten years ago we had stood, my Grandfather and I 
And the waves still rushed in as they had the year that he died 
And it seemed that my lifetime was shrunken and lost in the tide 
As it rose and fell on the side of England 

Prince Louis Battenberg is burning the Admiralty lights