I plead for a chance,
only for you to smile at me like a shiny rotten wood.
I ask for a chance on your own standards,
but you demand and expect perfection.
...
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.