Sifting through the sands of time.
On this journey, I hope to find
wives or women to see off.
Tears on cheeks or
hearts to fall.
On this journey war is born.
Talking heads puppet on,
only soldiers fear the gun.
On this journey I have seen,
countless men fell to their knees.
Terrors better drowned at sea.
On this journey I am lost.
Brother camps, men like me
fighting only orderly.
Tradition tells that we will fall
killing men who give it all.
On this journey I am gone,
lost in booze are two sides all.
Gangrene limbs will meet the saw
of brother bullets trained to fall.