This life, this life, so full of pain
I sit and wonder why I'm not slain
Blood runs past me, a crimson flood
I watch the fallen, buried in mud

The air holds the stench of the dead
This heart of mine, it feels like lead.
I hear another crack of gun
Another cry, another young life gone

The wooden crosses, a long thin row
In ordered lines like seeds to sow
The graves are fresh, the graves of youth
Shot down in a simple fight for truth

This life, this life, so full of pain
I sit and wonder why I was slain
I was innocent, I did nothing wrong
But from the grave no one hears my last song.

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