Many men and guns are hidden in the bloody ground,
Of the vast and muddy desert, that stretches all around.
But proud he stands, tall and strong, never quavers from his stance,
Though he wishes he could travel home, but he'll never have the chance.
His fellow men are scared, not of death but not returning home.
Many have already died and their ghosts already roam.
'May god be with us' they all pray, 'and see us safely through this fight,
For though we stand with gun in hand, I wish not to die tonight'.
'Although a soldier, I'm a father first, loving husband and brave son.
Close to my heart, your letters dear, and I treasure every one.'
'Remember me' he whispers into the dark night sky,
'May the winds of war carry home my words tonight if I should die'.
'And guns may stop my beating heart but shan't suppress my soul
My heart flies free back home to thee, for that they can't control.'
'And little son, how much you've grown, that I can clearly see
For now you're the man of our small home and you must be strong for me.'
And though the family of this man, all love him and adore,
All the love in this cruel world cannot stop the bullets roar.
And his body falls into the mud as the sirens scream around,
And the telegram to his wife and child now lies sodden on the ground.