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Blood on your hands as you put them |
|
Near the hole in your chest. |
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Where the bullet struck and threw you |
|
Flat into the mud. "Come on lads" the bastards soon will be defeated |
|
God is on our side was what you heard |
|
When all went black |
|
For god and the country we raise our heads |
|
All real heroes die the glorious dead |
|
From this point of view it all looks very different |
|
As you cough up blood and an intense cold |
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Runs up your spine |
|
No one ever told you that it could be like this |
|
Dehumanised, no respect for life, you want to cry |
|
For god and the country we raise our heads |
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Or ideals that weren't yours the glorious dead |
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Misguidence was your undoing |
|
Death stares you in the face |
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Memories, past times flash by |
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As they declare you dead |
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For god and the country you raised your head |
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Who remembers your name the glorious dead |
