| Sentries are on the bluff
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| You would be wise to not be the last
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| Soldier in this line as we make our way through this brush
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| How did we get so pinned down
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| To have to fight all and nothing at once?
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| Rot sets in from trenches dug with our cold, bare hands
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| The rain’s burning through the roof
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| Made from lies a bullet can’t touch and
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| Brothers look in each other’s eyes
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| For reasons to make the reasons just
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| The ground never felt so cold
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| The barrels of our guns get too hot to hold
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| We wouldn’t dare put them down
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| It’s best that we don’t stand up In a war from which no one is exempt
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| We were told before we left to repent
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| I watched the smoke smother the lost politics
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| And fade away into the crisp, mourning air
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| Centuries are in the dust
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| We are no more wise to see through glass
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| Cases displaying the ways history had with us How did we get so pinned down?
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| Dying to fight and fighting to die?
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| Rotting in the trench that’s dug, every time, by and by Memory is best kept short and sweet
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| In a world that is quick to forget
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| Memory is best kept short and sweet
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| In a world that is quick to forget you |