Battlefield Blues

I find it hard to concentrate

When blood is dripping down my face this late

I don't even know if it's mine or not

But I can see it's mixed with a healthy measure of snot

I check my head to see if I had been hit

But then I realise bit by bit

That my hand has been blown away

Fainting from the shock I think "It had to be today"

And then I'm woken up byto be woken up by Sergeant Wight

Who's telling me to stand up again and fight


So I get to my feet and stagger around

The sounds of the guns are really loud

And I thank the lord that I have at least one leg

Moving forwards I try to avoidthe bullets coming at my head

But that will be hard as I look to my side

Seeing a guy left with no hide

I think to myself "Well I have seen worse

Yesterday I saw twelve guys blown up by a hearse

Took me eight hours to clean those bloodstains

While the sergeant shouted at me again and again"


Well I have the battlefield blues

I really don't know what to do

I'll either come back in a throne or a coffin

But never mind, I've been having plenty of lovin'


I see all my friends turning back

Only to be shot by some corporals dressed in black

They have nine armoured mini guns

And scream at the top of their lungs

"No mercy for cowards"

I do think they are a little overpowered

After all, they've killed more men then other army

They shot the general because they thought he was barmy

All he ever did was want to retreat

While hiding under his bullet-proof sheets


The bodies are piling up so high

I can't really see the sky

But the enemies sure find it easy to see

Because we're all walking higher than six feet

We're sinking into a sea of corpses

Lined with several horses

I tell you, it's not a nice place

Yet we're running along like it's a race

We're told, "Whoever gets to the front first wins

Whoever comes last gets shot in the shins"


Well I have the battlefield blues

And I don't know what to do

I'll either come back a hero or a stiff

The general sure does like the word "if"


There are fourteen mad breeders

All pretending to be leaders

They say, "live or die it's up to you"

But then the moment you start to bleed on your shoe

They panic and call in the tanks

And they expect us to say "thanks"

But the enemy gets pissed out of its mind

So they blow the shit out of our behind

The leaders don't know what to do

So they send us all to fight to try and break through


It's embarrassing for me you know

To the folks at home it's like a picture show

Cheering for their heroes

But the enemy blows us up like zeroes

They have a cigarette in their mouth and use one hand on the rocket

I see poor Billy getting one in his eye socket

There's an explosion of smoke and brains

Of little Billy, not much remains

Still we push on

As the corporals in black slip away to avoid the inevitable run


Well I have the battlefield blues

And I don't know what to do

I'll come back a cripple or an emotional wreck

Either way, I hope I still have my neck