No voices heard, no cries of pain
All has gone silent upon reality
The faces of men never met
Games of power will always flare
Dying cries of pain can now be heard
Boots kick up blood and dirt
On the terrain of unknown land
On the terrain of unknown land

Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields

The numbness of the soul has to be
In order for the body to sustain
No time for thought, just to kill
The stains of reality keep it real
Wishing for thoughts of retreat or return
Now very well seem absurd
Bullets kick up blood and dirt
In heat or cold, snow or sand

Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields
Born for death, pushing through the fields

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