Guardians of the gun and sword
Trading in hypocrisy and hate
The thin gray line, the mighty horde
March off to meet their fate
With bloody hands and conscience clean
They hide between the spaces
The real gain remains unseen
Men perish in untold places
At day’s end they’ll count the cost
An old man’s war, the bill is paid
And back at home the cause is lost
Young boys lose their dreams in trade
In God’s name or for the nations
And never in the voice of reason
For those who stand at battle stations
May never know another season
Bookmarks
Share
Print
Save