sneak home and pray you’ll never know

Red explosions beckon him on.

In a trench filled with blood, bile and human remains,

He lays in wait until the battle is won.

Trying to remember his old lady’s song,

He uses his bayonet to pick his brain.

Red explosions beckon him on.

Soldiers and their consciences never get along,

They are taught to feel that they are inhumane.

He lays in wait until the battle is won.

All the glory of war he learned was wrong,

Finger on the trigger, he must restrain.

Red explosions beckon him on.

Pulls up to his head, the barrel of his gun,

No one ever noticed his sad, silent refrain.

He lays in wait until the battle is won.

He has seen what he has seen, so what’s done is done

This is the only way he can be sane.

Red explosions draw him in.

He no longer waits for the battle to be won.