We won't confess what we've done We won't give back what we're holding The unweary losing still of battle Fighting men heavy with rigour Torn together with the deeds we supplied Eyes fixed on the sun Hide in our bodies, hope for the jackals Sooner the win, if our bones This cold cannot be measured by the lords Who shine their swords in the fog The sun their action, dissolving the damned Tomorrow was yesterday pa**ing And what would you give to see us leave our blood At your feet for the deed of entreaty? And what would you see give our eyes mournful At your hip for the pride of surviving?