Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun, on [bad word] through the endless gray
On they fight, for they're right, yes, but who's to say?
For a hill, men would kill. Why? They do not know
Stiffened wounds test their pride
Men of five, still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain that they surely know

For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on
For whom the bell tolls

Take a look to the sky just before you die
It's the last time you will.
Blackened roar, massive roar, fills the [bad word] sky
Shattered goal fills his soul with [bad word] cry
Stranger now are his eyes to this mystery
Hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now they see what will be, blinded eyes do see

For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on
For whom the bell tolls