posted February 15, 2015 02:40 AM            

The soldier’s drifting in the morning, of April 19th
He ain’t got nothing but pride to sustain
He’s seen too much blood falling, death kept following him
And he’s old enough to see that there’s nothing left to gain

In the old land of Normandy, he sees skulls and bullets
And his comrades all have passed him by
He’s all grown up knowing he’s just an asset
Of a nation’s rise to glory with endless scars inside

Soldiers without brothers, fathers without sons
Mothers without husbands, and daughters crying for the men
Maybe I’m lucky to be alive, having no one at my side
I’m good enough being a soldier trying to give some aid

What’s on the future when a new king rules the land
He’s hungry for power and he’ll use his right hand
To hunt Russian at the distance while pretending it’s all good now
Someday soon all the peasants on earth will just bow

And poor old Tokyo, I smell the ashes near Shibuya
The child in my arms has lost his dad Mr. kamiya
Impaled long before the enola came, died in my arms
That’s life for us and them, couldn’t help to be mean

What’s been told ain’t enough to make me change
What’s been done as I’m writing with growing rage
Portraits of murders and torture all in vain
Living forever feeling the burden with an endless pain