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Into battle we must go
to fight for freedoms sake
to wage a war against our foe
riding the boat across the wake

The boat glides and hits the sand
Our hands grip our rifles
our heads move and pan
open the hatch and into the stifle

bullets race across our cheeks
close friends have fallen
the enemy hides, its him we seek
one solider sits and is balling

I pick him up and slap his face
together we must storm the hill
a lone broken solider must give chase
run against the wind and make things still

he has a grenade to throw at the mound
we have his back and shoot at the gunner
he lobs the grenade and theres no sound
smoke and silence, a vicious stunner

the battle won and the hill is taken
its home we go and celebrate success
we cry for the lost ones and the foresaken
ours souls are drenched with the death and
excess

if a lone solider can courageously take a hill
with enemy at his toes and back
then people can beat their tired wills
and win against their own personal attacks