A wolf in the sand

The parade of soldiers painted the streets with patriotism so wicked, I wished to let my spirit loose alas.

But no, defeat is a solemn man with no remorse , nor care for what remains but gold.

I would knock these jokers down with one blow a hundred times over, if it weren't for the iron binding me to my fate.

I am a bottle of hate, throw me, I am a cup of hard liquor, pass me.

To fight your adversaries after being defeated is impossible. I may be a pessimist, but that's why i'm still here .If only I could see those banners once more, the posters that said "fight on"

The drums, ohhh...the drums. How every pound instructs my heart to scavenge for hope.

Left, Right, Left, Right and so on it went. At that moment I knew we had one more opportunity to thrive in the fields of liberty. Now I don't even care to fantasize. The men on the other side grew in the solar blaze of war. Their grandeur diminished our pride like a foot to a roach.