| He was a young boy about to be a man
|
| She loved him so, oh, please don’t go
|
| Down on his knees the blade passed with ease
|
| Shoulder to shoulder as it pierces her heart
|
| Out in the fields the boy becomes a man
|
| Taste of blood in his throat feel of death on his hands
|
| He shall fall on this dark, misty night
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| As he falls he hears his loved one cry
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man
|
| She’ll never understand why he left her hand
|
| He was a young boy, she loved him so
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| She watched the sun set and longed for his journey home
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| Flags fly low, the blade cut deep
|
| Now she must bear the wounds that bleed memories
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man
|
| She’ll never understand why he left her hand
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man
|
| She’ll never understand why he left her hand
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man
|
| She’ll never understand why he left her hand
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man
|
| She’ll never understand why he left her hand
|
| Birth of a hero, birth of a hero
|
| Birth of a hero, death of a man |