Make his fight on the hills in the early day Constant chill deep inside Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey On they fight, for they are right, yes, but who's to say? For a hill, men would kill, why? They do not know Suffered wounds test their pride Men of five, still alive through the raging glow Gone insane from the pain that they surely know For whom the bell tolls Time marches on For whom the bell tolls
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