The sky is dark and the clouds are red,
The fear of dying is what the men most dread.
Onwards to a battle they shouldn't have to fight,
Looking at the nearby flashes of exploding light.
Thinking of loved ones and what they'll leave behind,
Because the 'game' of war is anything but kind.
Dying at the hands of men they've never even met,
Walking on a deadly mine field; watching every step.
The next one could be their last and they could be gone,
They all wait for the night to finally end and to see the dawn.
The lives of our fathers and sons,
At the wraith of bombs and guns
Dying on land that isn't their own,
In a place they've never even known.
Why does freedom come at the ultimate price?
Why do we have to pay the ultimate sacrifice?
