In a wilderness of foggy thoughtsBattling with your minds retortsAnd walking on empty plainsWhere desert's so calm even drowning rainsSoldier on to this marching songHead held high with eyes fixed strongDropping thud, cymbal crash downThe mud, it is thick with desires to drownYour feet's in earth, your boots are sinkingSink with the memories of long lost thinkingAnd armies of many are fighting their fightsLost in the blackness, they're losing their sightsYour veins are my trenches, my gun is my ownThe whispers fall heavy with delicate moansArms and legs, teeth and nailOur fragile companions are destined to failFor this battalion has been run throughTherefore, captains and comrades, I bid you all adieu