| Bodies fill the fields I see, hungry heroes end
|
| No one to play soldier now, no one to pretend
|
| running blind through killing fields, bred to kill them all
|
| Victim of what said should be
|
| a servant `til I fall
|
| Soldier boy, made of clay
|
| now an empty shell
|
| twenty one, only son
|
| but he served us well
|
| Bred to kill, not to care
|
| just do as we say
|
| finished here, Greeting Death
|
| he’s yours to take away
|
| Back to the front
|
| you will do what I say, when I say
|
| Back to the front
|
| you will die when I say, you must die
|
| Back to the front
|
| you coward
|
| you servant
|
| you blindman
|
| Barking of machinegun fire, does nothing to me now
|
| sounding of the clock that ticks, get used to it somehow
|
| More a man, more stripes you bare, glory seeker trends
|
| bodies fill the fields I see
|
| the slaughter never ends
|
| Why, Am I dying?
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| Kill, have no fear
|
| Lie, live off lying
|
| Hell, Hell is here
|
| I was born for dying
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| Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say
|
| had no chance to see myself, moulded day by day
|
| Looking back I realize, nothing have I done
|
| left to die with only friend
|
| Alone I clench my gun
|
| Back to the front. |