War is much more than a disagreement of thought and a battle born of strife   Where many will stand and many will fall while bystanders will question the point   And the players are many the sacrifice great, for a victory heralded by few   And some march to the beat of a vindictive drum with their own agendas to right   Well I'm one of those who'll step up for battle, the smell of cordite in the air   Knowing the ordeal is not about me, but treating it as such just the same   With irreverence I tread through the blood and the soil the wounded, dying and dead   I want them to taste the steel of my blade and feel the sting of my lead   And sometimes they'll hear the bullet, yes sometimes they'll feel it's sting, and sometimes they'll know as their life slips   away, and sometimes they won't feel a thing   'Cause I wanna be and I wanna see, and I'm here to exact my revenge   When I summon Mars for victory sweet, when I conjure the will for success   And I wanna taste the blood of the fallen to know the scent of death   And that every round that I get off, yields another's final breath