The century was barely begun,

When men all over the world picked up the gun,

From China to South Africa and the Philippines,

Always the enemy made to appear as Phillistines,

Defend their homeland or their national pride,

All in step they march side by side,

 

Soldiers marching, four by four,

Soldiers marching by the score,

Where they go, no one knows,

Upon the enemy, land their blows,

 

Then comes the Balkan Wars and the Great War,

When humanity found out what industry could be used for,

The inventions of man, which insured so much Death,

Poison gas, the deadly breath,

What was it all for?

Nevermind, here comes more,

 

Soldiers marching in a line,

Wearing uniforms out of time,

Of their bravery many will sing,

But all the songs cannot bring,

Those back from oblivion that die,

Instead in the ground in far off land they lie,

 

Then come Spain, and Europe whole,

For long years, the bells do not toll,

Tyrants rise and tyrants fall,

Tell their people, kill them all,

Great atrocities happen everywhere,

Young men with eyes that stare at nowhere,

 

Soldiers marching in a line,

Soldiers marching to the line,

Many come and many go,

How many come back, they never know,

Dying for their cause, the bodies they pile,

Who can say if it was all worth while?

 

Korea, North Africa, Vietnam,

All so bloody, and so many gone,

Then the Holy Land, the unending fight,

Who knows whos wrong and whos right?

Fight for Communism or Democracy,

Each alive with their own hypocrisy,

 

Soldiers leave, never to come home,

In far off lands they now roam,

Fear and Death contantly with them,

Brave out of fear, yet none forget then,

Lies told to the people, and youth is strange,

Decide that now is the time to change,

 

Then brush wars,

In jungles and deserts they die in scores,

Territorial disputes, solved by blood,

But once started, hard to stop the flood,

The easy end to an argument, the barrel of a gun,

Some find solace in religion, others less fortunate think it is fun,

 

They come by thousands, from near and far,

Upon those left behind is left the scar,

Of the one that left and never came back,

Dying in someplace, where unknown they stack,

Bodies in piles, stench rises high,

Round and round the carrion, how they fly,

 

Babylon, Africa, the Balkans again,

Century of war, was it all in vain?

Ethnic clensing, differences deadly,

As soldiers march on ever steady,

Through the last decade fighting continues, same places by different name,

But names of soldiers never do, how sad, so very sad, and yet so strange.

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