CHORUS
Release your bitter hounds of war
And run somewhere to hide.
The dogs of hate are howling now;
Sit back and watch 'em ride.

It starts so simple for our lot --
Someone wants what we have got.
Next thing you know it comes to terms.
They're in command, and we're their worms.
The battle's never lost or won,
But just the same, the blood will run.

CHORUS

Missiles line the hills of green.
Corpses fill the morbid scene.
Mother's, lovers at the wall,
Raise their eyes and then they fall.
Fathers in the combat zone --
They were here, but now they're gone.

CHORUS