Thousands of Men.

Thousands of men
Ready at the start,
Facing an enemy
With broken hearts.

Each pretending to be brave
Each trying to look proud,
And each will fall in turn
And each will hit the ground.

A gun in each hand
A gun that will destroy,
A gun near every body
A gun for every boy.

And a tear that's wiped away
Because there can't be any of those,
No emotion to show
Because then everybody knows.

And when the enemy charges
Every boy can hear,
Cries of death and pain
Cries of pain and fear.

And with every crack of a gun
They know what it will cost,
With every crack of a gun
Another soul is lost.

And few survivors are left
And they will go back to base,
And as they step over the dead
They try not to look at each boy's face.

The faces that show nothing
Except the fear that once was,
And this is what always happens
This is what war does.

The ones that go back are lucky
And they leave the dead all alone,
Because after every war
There's always some who won't go home.