[Verse]
The wind carries whispers through the valley low,
Of boots in the trenches and fields where blood flows.
From the first stone flung to the cannons' roar,
The pages are stained with the cries of war.
[Verse 2]
Bayonets glimmer in the cold morning light,
Through the ash and smoke, no wrong and no right.
Brothers on both sides carried the same dream,
But war's an old river, always chasing a stream.
[Chorus]
Oh, the dust of battles, it clings to the years,
Silent on the wind, carried by tears.
From the hills of old Rome to the desert's glare,
The wars of the world leave their ghosts everywhere.
[Verse 3]
Flags waving proud, though they’re tattered and torn,
Mothers wait for sons who never return.
A bagpipe's sorrow, a bugle's refrain,
Echo in chambers that still hold the pain.
[Verse 4]
The pen writes of heroes, the grave tells the cost,
Of the dreams we pursued and the lives that were lost.
History’s a canvas brushed thick with regret,
Memories of battles we can't soon forget.
[Bridge]
Through the haze of time, the echoes still call,
Names engraved on stones, lined in somber halls.
We’ve marched down this road a thousand times before,
Searching for an end, but we only find more.