Another Day In Quicksand
Looking left
Looking right
You see these faces
Such a grim sight.
Mortars howl
A tanks low growl
The hi-pitch ringing sounds.
Running forward
Through mud and grime
You take battle stance
On the front line.
Save all your prayers
For you have lost today
The world ends for you
On the count of three.
One,
Take heed and breath.
Two,
Squeeze softly
Three...
Let this bullet grow your wings.
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