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    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

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