Yesterday, the living mourn the dead.
Today, the dead mourn the living.
There is no more sleep
There is no more truce
There is no more respite
March on
Toward the world's battle
March on
Now, as then
In wood and in mountain and in plain
On river and lake and sea
Let man daily invent his glory
And his death
Today, the dead mourn the living.
There is no more sleep
There is no more truce
There is no more respite
March on
Toward the world's battle
March on
Now, as then
In wood and in mountain and in plain
On river and lake and sea
Let man daily invent his glory
And his death