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 d**h And that every round that I get off, yields another's final breath