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i march through scorching deserts
the snake like sand ever burning my feet

but still i march on

i push on up the hill,bullets whizzing by,
comrades fall, for their glory i advance,
pain kicks in , bodies pile

but still i march on

my equipment ruined, torn ,melted bullet holes and burns
i don't complain , its not the spartan way

still i march on

out numbered , out gunned , out flanked, a drunken commander at the rear.

still we march on
still we march

the beautiful death within sight
death and glory await

for wrath and ruin
for death and glory
for the worlds ending

the glories advance we are

ching of the machine gun loading
thump of the bullets hitting hard on human flesh

still we march on

the skies cry and the fields bleed
silence fills the field of battle
the glories advance is still
pain and life have lefts us

but still we would march on.... if we could

we are an example of the perfect soldier
up holding our duty, even to our dying breathe
and obidient to this still , here dead we lie