We fight in a land that's filled with sorrow. We bag our dead; then we march away. We do not worry about tomorrow. We just hope to make it through today.
Back at the basecamp, I fool with the guys, But I never learn their names too well. Because today, though we fight together, By tomorrow some of us will be in Hell.
I pick up a pen and I write a letter. I write: "Dear Mom, I'm doing fine. So please don't worry; things couldn't be better." Then I grab my weapon to defend the line.
We bag our dead; then we march away.
We do not worry about tomorrow.
We just hope to make it through today.
Back at the basecamp, I fool with the guys,
But I never learn their names too well.
Because today, though we fight together,
By tomorrow some of us will be in Hell.
I pick up a pen and I write a letter.
I write: "Dear Mom, I'm doing fine.
So please don't worry; things couldn't be better."
Then I grab my weapon to defend the line.