Tekster: Dying Fetus. Abandon All Hope.

Valor they instill to face certain death in conflict
Win the war through discipline, trained to follow orders
Dilettantes of war, torn apart

Send them all to be slaughtered, standard training set
In a dark, distant, foreign shithole, wretched torment
Approaching the vile sphere of contention, breathing the smoke, the dust
Blood-soaked earth, stained red oceans, four your insides

Sudden hail, gunfire, half the men drop dead
Troops lost in transport, waste of lives

Terrified grunts die confused
Send them all to be slaughtered
Insufficient base munitions
Compelled by force to fight until death

Certain causualty, amateurs who all die before they learn to fight
Ruthless commanders order them to rush upon their imminent, abrupt ends
Strategy of attrition, mobbing them, flailing corpses use up ammunition
Bravery cut in half by enemy artillery, or cowardice punished by friendly
fire

Charge ahead, expending divisions
Impotence, gaining no ground
Bodies thrown, conduct in war, useless
Primitive, only two ways home

Terrified grunts die confused
Reluctant and afraid to attack
How will anyone survive this?
Only hope, victory or death

Certain causualty, amateurs who all die before they learn to fight
Ruthless commanders order them to rush upon their imminent, abrupt ends
Dying in a dump, ordinance, erode tactics, know what you must do to survive
Hiding in the dead, lying still, bare cover, strike in stealth and then
disappear

Forge ahead, retiring their forces
Spilling their confounded blood
Undermine their efforts to defeat us
Running gun, only two ways home

Dig in and fire until the way is clear
Pounding the ruins, storms further defaced
Snipers take heads, harass your progress
Take them out, pierce their eyes through their scopes

Die for honor, motherland, strewn about, piles of corpses
Losing every last brave man, better than surrender
Inescapable nightmare, resolve unflinching
Never bow to tyranny
Make them pay for every step they take