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