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For whom the bells toll |
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When sentenced to die |
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The stuttering rifles |
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Will stifle the cry |
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The monstrous anger |
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The fear's rapid rattle |
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A desert inferno |
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Kids dying like cattle |
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Don't tell me |
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We're not prepared |
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I've seen today's marine |
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He's eighteen and he's eager |
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He can be quite mean |
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No mock'ries for them |
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No prayers or bells |
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The demented choirs |
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The wailing of shells |
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The boys holding candles |
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On untraveled roads |
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The fear spreads like fire |
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As shrapnel explodes |
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I think it's wrong |
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To conscript our youth |
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Against their will |
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When plenty of our citizenry |
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Really like to kill |
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What sign posts will lead |
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To armageddon's fires |
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What bugles will call them |
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From crowded grey shires |
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The women sit quiet |
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With death on their minds |
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A slow dusk descending |
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The drawing of blinds |
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Make the hunters all line up |
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It's their idea of fun |
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And let those be forgiven |
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Who never owned a gun |
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Was it him or me |
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Or the wailing of the dead |
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The laughing soldiers |
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Cast their lots |
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And you can cut the dread |