| They are soldiers too blind too see |
| Fighting for their own damnation |
| See the honour and pride in their chests |
| Targets feeding guns |
| There’s too much hate to hear the warning |
| On killing fields where nobody wins |
| No denying they are the strongest |
| Blowing out their mother country |
| Independence — What is the value? |
| What has made them pay the price? |
| It’s much too late to hear the warning |
| On killing fields where nobody wins |
| All men of steel and hearts of ivory |
| See the comrades side by side |
| Under fire seems like eternity |
| A game, sinister |
| The souls are sold where is the ecstasy? |
| Where are the bold? Times change |
| Is there a need for all the wasted youth? |
| They call it war! |
| The souls are bold, a newfound ecstasy |
| The guns are sold, values change |
| The sirens howl a short infinity |
| The airforce whispers |
| The war was cold, now it has turned to flames |
| Nobody knows the reason why |
| Is there a need for all this wasted life |
| There must be more! |
| They never wait to hear the warning |
| On killing fields where nobody wins |
| There’s a fight on the hill |
| Even time is standing still |
| But they never will know the score |
| (War is just a game of tools |
| Still it’s the same, still it’s the same |
| War is made by leading fools |
| Nothing remains, nothing remains) |