March

American blood held high
some will live
some will die
For every bleeding tear we cry
Another soldier stands to die
Heads held high Guns held low
We watch each horrid, sickening blow
As blood and tears continue to flow
The deaths in America continue to grow
With barren faces and faded eyes
you see the soldiers march
Bloodied hands held high
Marching through that golden arch
Lost among the wicked ones
Die fighting for our dreams
Blow after blow from hatred rang
Retie the broken seams
Never will i understand
The deaths we pray for tonight
But along the way I pray they find the light
March weary soldiers
March brave men
March our darken angels
March home again.