Loaded like a pistol and taught how to die they look the enemy in the eye, and never surrender.
Through trenches dug in the field, through mud and over the top of fences they go one by one.
With no light and nothing inside. We're devided as nations, but as people we're one.
In cith monuments among the flags, hidden in the shadows the order of battle is writen.
Where people cry for a nations scars and heros sleep beneath blankets of stars.
To young to die but not to play the general's game. Now there is no life left but the memories linger on .
I've seen plenty worth dying for, but hardly anything worth killing for.
The eternal flames blow in the wind. Too many soldiers have died and faded to dust.
They had seen the glory and felt the suffering and pain.
I just really wonder when will we ever stop these things from happening again?