War
We are all POWs, arrested by the nightmare of a constant war that penetrates our lives no matter how distant we may be. We may not pay attention to it; we may live everyday with distant deaths but in the prices and in our deepest thoughts and inner peace we are somehow affected.
It's not an American war for oil, the world is at war for something different. Something that's deep in our culture, something old and dark. Religion, ideology and economics mix into a dangerous pot about to explode each and every day.
So we all might be sorry but the worst feelings are to the soldiers. No war is a soldiers war yet they are the ones who fall to the ground.
"Bodies fill the fields I see, hungry heroes end
No one to play soldier now, no one to pretend
running blind through killing fields, bred to kill them all
Victim of what said should be
a servant `til I fall
Soldier boy, made of clay
now an empty shell
twenty one, only son
but he served us well
Bred to kill, not to care
just do as we say
finished here, Greeting Death
he's yours to take away
Back to the front
you will do what I say, when I say
Back to the front
you will die when I say, you must die
Back to the front
you coward
you servant
you blindman
Barking of machinegun fire, does nothing to me now
sounding of the clock that ticks, get used to it somehow
More a man, more stripes you wear, glory seeker trends
bodies fill the fields I see
the slaughter never ends
Why, Am I dying?
Kill, have no fear
Lie, live off lying
Hell, Hell is here
I was born for dying
Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say
had no chance to see myself, molded day by day
Looking back I realize, nothing have I done
left to die with only friend
Alone I clench my gun"
["Disposable Heroes" (1986), Metallica in Master of Puppets]
