Shores of peril

And the platoon rises to fall against
The heavy current of bullets whizzing towards the end
Running at full pace toward the fence
A helping firepower you lend

Clutching the letter your girl back home wrote you
Or the gun that the US lent you
Maybe your pride got stuck in your throat
Or maybe you let the pin of your hand held suicide go off in your coat

Give us a reason to leave, so just give us all the bullets
And give us all the skills
We might as well play russian roulette
With our suicide pills

You can't make us leave
This is what we need
And as khaki blends with blood
You pick off another one

The gray of the skies
Reflects in your eyes
And as another one of us dies
Another one back home cries

Until the sun rises, the sky would be filled
But until that moment, the sargent screams fire at will
We might as well be going down head first in our uniforms
Like getting struck down in a thunderstorm

As red rains from the neck down
We all die on the beach front
And this might be a ghost town
But I wrote you a letter if it was the end, this might as well be my final stunt.