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Fix Bayonets!
In darkness they come marching
In darkness they come marching
In sun and heat they sharp repeat
A siren’s song that carries on
A warrior’s call to arms.
A soldier’s call to arms.
For endless days we’ve fought
Every inch of land is ours
Every inch of land is theirs
And yet we fight and die
And still we don’t know why.
The beat of war
The bullet pings
Melodic strings
The trumpet blasts
Of glory Past
Our Serenade de Cannonade…
No hand could write such wholesome notes
No man could trap the pat of hearts
Take that, Mozart! Take that!
The files come and never end
Army ants with sting of bees
And strength of bears
And peacock’s pride
They move in stride
A ragged stride
And surge like waves
To drown us here
To drown in blood and salty tear
To match our Zeus, our thunder gods
Oh, Hades, come with cool relief:
Plunge us into River Styx!
I’ve never seen such wicked smoke!
How to see what’s there, what’s there,
When eyes turn red from filthy air?
A flank? A prank!
I’ll die, you fool!
I’ll die for glory never known
I’ll die for Causes never shown
How can you ask such things of me?
To sacrifice my life and blood
Like Christ uncrossed and in the mud
Such lowly misery--
To scratch a man from living earth
For what? For what?
Our lines are down
My brothers die
I cut them down
I wander blind and hope to hear
The rattle, prattle of spokes and wheel
The Reaper’s carriage
Impatient still.
Yes, man, yes!
A thought supreme!
Let’s go together,
A chance redeemed.
Send word to God and Satan, too,
That dice are cast, we’re in the wind!
We’ve nothing left to lose!
Scream it now, amid the smoke,
Bellow loud like heathen folk
The single cry to end this war
The words to shake the spirit’s core:
“ Fix bayonets! Let’s charge those Rebel sons of whores!”