His body full of bruises, oh! No, full of stabs
His white, tight t-shirt, now crimson
His sweet charming bass voice, now a roar
His hairy nostrils, now outlet pipes of blood
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.