They do the things all soldiers do 
While they’re waiting to die 
Writing letters to their friends 
That will never be delivered 
They have dreams about escaping 
Getting away underneath the fence 
And being, once more reunited 
With their families and friends 
Sitting calmly in the barracks 
From where they watch the guards 
Standing at the main gate 
Smoking and playing cards 
But this remains just wishful thinking 
Deep inside they all know 
There’s no escape from this place 
A dead end is as far as they can go