The eternal fabric of time,
Stained a crimson red,
Woven from silk so fine,
For what the blood was shed,

Who's wrong or right?
It never mattered,
For in both party's sight,
innocence can be crafted,

To hate another man,
Was just a part of the job,
We shoot because we can,
as long as the bodies drop,

A flag and dog tags delivered to the door,
This is just a result of those who go to war.