It's come to a standstill,
when will help get here?
The stench of death,
the taste of blood in my mouth.
Life drains away in the trenches,
when will you get here?
Do you see,
what we've done?
I've killed,
I've lived.
How could we ever set things right,
when everyone takes sides?
The truth is in your eyes,
what kind are you?
Which are you,
live or undead?
