I serve my time a frontline soldier
Watch young men growing older
Older than their years,
I cry my tears
In safety back at base,
Where a brave man can hide his face and weep
Shed tears for those in death who sleep,
Those tragic souls taken before their time,
Where mindless killing is not a crime.
A soldier’s worth should be measured by his courage
Not by the earth in which he lies.
Or for the cause for which he dies
But family and memories of home
Those fields and meadows
Where I'd roam with my beloved on summer days,
And poured four-leaf clovers through her hair
We would stare at each other for hours and not speak
And as the sun went down I would kiss her cheek.
Sadly silence has lost all meaning
For all I hear is the bitter screaming
The bombs and sounds of raging guns
The death of many fallen sons
I hunt the brave and the weak
In this place I use my gun to speak
Am I a man that’s born to kill?
I have my orders but not my will
If I could choose a life of peace
War itself it would not cease.
The hateful eyes I see,
That would end this tour of misery,
The poisoned eyes that stare
The enemy waits his pain to share
I will charge unto the air.
The blessing of my enemy’s death
I find each breath of life renewed
Best to hunt than be pursued
My child and wife back home
Are not known here
The fear and dread the armies of the dead
Do not walk in my stead
I need no pity for I wear a warrior’s mask
It shields me from this brutal task
But when this war, this war is over
I will give my beloved a four-leaf clover
Share her touch and warm embrace
Shed the mask that scars my face.