In the trenches we wait br Rain pouring down br Our mud-soaked uniforms br Pasted to our bones br br We wait br br Puff on a cigarette br A deck of cards br A broken box br And a tin can meal br br We wait br br Passing the time br The bullets fly overhead br Occasionally br And sometimes we hear br The screaming br But most of the time br We block it out of our minds br br And wait br br Sleeping where we stand br Until someone gives the order br And it’s our turn to die.