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Description
Across the field,
our freedom awaits.
Many of us will die,
most of us will be severely wounded.

Muskets loaded,
bayonettes in place.
Come screaming along the field,
colliding in bloody battle.

Bullets whistle through the air,
and plummet into our bodies with a thud.
Burning throughout with unspeakable pain.
Dressings applied in a crude fashion,
holding my guts within.

Hacksaws, and ether.
Amputated mutillated limbs.
Buried underneath the ground we once fought upon.
Bite the bullet.
This is going to hurt.

Battles rage on,
gathering in intensity.
More bodies lay rotting into the soil.
Swords clash,
guts spill across the grass.

Open wounds,
festering stench.
Feild dressings soaked in blood.
Hacked off limbs,
litter the ground.

The brutal art of war,
is what separates the men from the boys.
The brutal art of war,
is what separates the weak from the brawn.

...The brutal art of war,
is what separates the living,
from the dead...

Description
Across the field,
our freedom awaits.
Many of us will die,
most of us will be severely wounded.

Muskets loaded,
bayonettes in place.
Come screaming along the field,
colliding in bloody battle.

Bullets whistle through the air,
and plummet into our bodies with a thud.
Burning throughout with unspeakable pain.
Dressings applied in a crude fashion,
holding my guts within.

Hacksaws, and ether.
Amputated mutillated limbs.
Buried underneath the ground we once fought upon.
Bite the bullet.
This is going to hurt.

Battles rage on,
gathering in intensity.
More bodies lay rotting into the soil.
Swords clash,
guts spill across the grass.

Open wounds,
festering stench.
Feild dressings soaked in blood.
Hacked off limbs,
litter the ground.

The brutal art of war,
is what separates the men from the boys.
The brutal art of war,
is what separates the weak from the brawn.

...The brutal art of war,
is what separates the living,
from the dead...