Bloodied Men of the 51st

Mud of blood and earth
Beneath these feet
Their friend's lives clump to the boots
And wood wet by rain
Invades troop minds like plague sent by gods
Gunpowder is the air, the battle's fog
Draped over men, the new mother's blanket
They look to the sides, dare not glance forth
Not caring of those men
Deemed to be devils
Men might be charging
Men could be dying
Or clustered similar coffins of muck

And two dozen men have no more war
Aside from battles of birth
With ammo run low, walking forth or back
Same destiny of memoryless death
Liberation, to be free
Are gifts worth giving
But forsaken from them for eternity
Their future to decide
When comes the last breath
Is also their right to die

Then one great night, under waning moon
Like fading sea's only wave
Two dozen wisps of men rose up
Growing stronger at first stand
Through worlds void of light
Privates abandoned their fright

Hello, good sun on the line
Focus first rays on the Germanic village of
Grunewald
Who lives here?
No one asks
People to be set free
And no army had ever done so before
Guns to shoot foreign friends
Bullets for husbands and wives
Blood to be spilled will create a new mud
On new violent freedom's ground

First, to the houses
And as each one fell
Last thoughts crossed old brains like fire
Of the land that they die for
And meeting a new lord
Liberation came late for
These men of the fields
Balding old mayor
And slight youth of wife
Met the men behind death
For a second

When the bronze town bell rings
(Untouched by war's greed)
Invading freedom will come
And after the floor needs cleaning
Two dozen men of the brave 51st
Now life's end and death's only birth
Will be lost behind enemy lines