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Long is the hour for the waiting man* |
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The front line is to be ours, awaiting the command |
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Some sit silently on the floor, bemused and empty-gazed |
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I go through my gear once more, already knowing all is in place |
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And as the bugle call goes blaring |
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We know that this might be our final call |
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From the line, you have had your rest! |
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- Rising! Fighting! |
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When the going gets tough they send in the best |
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- Lightning! Striking! |
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The wait is over, we are taking the head |
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- Bring it on we are not afraid! |
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Keep your head clear or you'll end up dead |
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- Blood's left no room for rust on our blades |
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- Take the day! |
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Scattered remains of our own troops, we meet as we advance: |
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"Turn around while you can fools, you won't stand a chance" |
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But deep within their eyes you see, hope mixed with respect |
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They're here, the men from beyond the sea, the fight is not over yet |
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And as the bugle call goes blaring |
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We know that this might be our final call |
|
From the line, you have had your rest! |
|
- Rising! Fighting! |
|
When the going gets tough they send in the best |
|
- Lightning! Striking! |
|
The wait is over, we are taking the head |
|
- Bring it on we are not afraid! |
|
Keep your head clear or you'll end up dead |
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- Blood's left no room for rust on our blades - Take the day! |
