Light is darkest 'fore the dawn
Sea is calmest 'fore the storm
My will is strong my aim is true
And in my sights the likes of you
Our enemy stands upon the hill
Wapping death 'pon our bunkers brim
If I shall not return
Send a death letter to my love
Lord guide my hand and aim it true
And may his aim be straighter still
For shall he fail I will return
A shot that killed ten thousand sons
When my dying breath has drawn
When flesh and blood are torn and thrown
We were nothing more then fuel to fire
And as we burn our spirts rise