The howl of artillery passes overhead 
Trailing tongues of fire, spelling certain death 
Counter battery bursts raining down on positions 
The steel inferno reaps its deadly harvest 

I walk among the corpses of the fallen 
Fingers curled into claws of rigor mortis 

The wall of fire creeping closer 
An infernal crescendo that seems not to end

We left a trail of ten thousand dead 
I still hear their screams in my head 

Feel the caress of hot lead 
Fighting a battle we can't win 

Hot steel ripping through young flesh 
Our numbers are growing thin 

Nowhere [bad word] nowhere to go 
Wading through human remains [bad word] in pieces friends cut to shreds 
The violence of warfare we start [bad word]