Make his fight on the hill 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 whos to says 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, Take a look to the sky
just before you die, It is the last time he
will, Blackened roar massive roar fills the crumbling
sky, Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless
cry, Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery, He
hears the silence so loud, Crack of dawn, all is gone
except the will to be, Now they see what will be,
blinded ,eyes to see, For whom the bell tolls, Time
marches on, For whom the bell
tolls
Your not your car, your not your job, your not how much
money you have, your not the contents of your
wallet. We are the all singing, all dancing crap of
the world.
-----http://www.face-pic.com/phil_kent
New Stained-glass Windows at Notre Dame de Paris
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