Marching on ‘cross Doomsday Lines
Underneath a slate black sky,
Our spirits steeled against hardened times
With a will to fight, and we’re ready to die.
But is this the way that war should be;
To sacrifice ourselves for the “Greater Good?”
To fight the Hun from Germany
And end our days in rain and mud?
Over the top to face our doom,
Hoping that death won’t come to soon.
Comrades together beneath a shining moon,
As it smiles on down on our mud-caked tomb.
The bullets fly across the sky
In deadly lines of orange red.
And one by one we fall…and die.
Memento Mori: a generation dead.