when the last of the cries fade away
finally, i will learn the real reason why
the glorious revolution died
before my very eyes.
a battalion gone in a spark
the small ****** world goes dark
leaving not a soul to be seen in the chaos.

the howling winds echo,
with tales of the men that charted for home
yet, they will never return from the battlefields
resting alone, surrounded by the cruel plains

i can hear how the guns went off, a bang!
and the next second, the telephone rang
"your husband's dead," the telephone man said
"he isn't here right now, he's lying on his deathbed."
"he won't be coming home."

then, their wives will cry alone in agony
of the tragedy they had become
to the sons who met an unfortunate end,
please bid farewell, to your freedom.