Bismillah

The march will never be televised
Shoulders touching brothers in arms
Back day after day who said they can't
The shields are heavy the bruises bloody
The scars deep and the respite never comes
At the top of the hill lies the enemy, helmets on
I don't care if they're following orders, I just don't give one
They smile when they charge, sending us back down again
Our numbers have halved, there's no one to replace them
Mothers ain't sending sons out to see them again in coffins
We had a newcomer last month he lost his unborn son
His wife was punched in the stomach while she was nursing wounds
He fought valiantly,climbed the wall at the top of the hill
Found the castle and the guards slaughtered him
They sent out his head in a tray like he was cannon turkey
Some say we was battle weary, others said the fire needed kindling
His memory did that , we were marching up whilst singing again
Not half way up or half way down, just up and beyond
They still look at us like crap but we don't look defeated this week
When there's the fresh smell of cooked lamb in the air, juicy and sleek
There's optimism in the air again, the winter's over, the skyscape's peak