Life on the battlefield is nothing like people say it is,
There is no glory, no honor, no praise,
Of taking another man's life.
You hear the rockets fly over your head and hope that they won't find you.
You are behind the parapets,
And you hear the cries of the wounded men,
You smell the sulfur in the air from the guns that you are emptying into another man's chest,
And all you can think about is the woman that is waiting at home for you,
As well as the child she bears,
But then you hear the sound of the pop-pop-popping of the gun that is aimed directly at your heart,
And you know that you will never see that child be born,
Or look into your loving wife's eyes anymore,
You know that this is the end,
When you slide to the ground with a sigh.