| You’ll take my life but I’ll take your’s too
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| You’ll fire your musket but I’ll run you through
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| So when you’re waiting for the next attack
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| You’d better stand there’s no turning back
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| The bugle sounds and the charge begins
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| But on this battlefield no one wins
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| The smell of acrid smoke and horses breath
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| As I plunge on into certain death
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| The horse he sweats with fear we break to run
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| The mighty roar of the Russian guns
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| And as we race towards the human wall
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| The screams of pain as my comrades fall
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| We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground
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| And the Russians fire another round
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| We get so near yet so far away
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| We were meant to fight another day
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| We get so close near enough to fight
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| When a Russian gets me in his sights
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| He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow
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| A burst of rounds take my horse below
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| And as I lay there gazing at the sky
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| My body’s numb and my throat is dry
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| And as I lay forgotten and alone
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| Without a tear I draw my parting groan |