We are the idealistic ones.
Believing we can make the world better,
Thinking we know where to find what we’re after.
Trusting our leaders will place our targets,
On the heart of all the pain and unrest.

We are the faces behind the guns.
Shaving our hair and donning dress blues,
So many young and fresh out of school.
Training until we march like cattle,
Standing beside our brothers in battle.

We are the lost forgotten sons.
Struggling with what we’ve had to do,
Hoping that somehow we’ll see it through.
Fighting demons we can’t shoot down,
Unable to feel, for fear we will drown.

We are the warriors, from this point on.
For war and peace, when weak and when strong.
We have no choice but to march along.
We shall not bend, we shall not break,
And our beloved honor, we shall not forsake.

We are the few, the proud, the brave.
The men who fight behind the flag