War is much more than a disagreement of thought and a battle born of strife
Where many will stand and many will fall while bystanders will question the point
And the players are many the sacrifice great, for a victory heralded by few
And some march to the beat of a vindictive drum with their own agendas to right
Well I`m one of those who`ll step up for battle, the smell of cordite in the air
Knowing the ordeal is not about me, but treating it as such just the same
With irreverence I tread through the blood and the soil the wounded, dying and dead
I want them to taste the steel of my blade and feel the sting of my lead
And sometimes they`ll hear the bullet, yes sometimes they`ll feel it`s sting, and sometimes they`ll know as their life slips
away, and sometimes they won`t feel a thing
`Cause I wanna be and I wanna see, and I`m here to exact my revenge
When I summon Mars for victory sweet, when I conjure the will for success
And I wanna taste the blood of the fallen to know the scent of death
And that every round that I get off, yields another`s final breath