Do we recognize his face?
If he's not our fallen soldier
We leave him rotten in this place
But it's hard to tell through all the mud
Features covered up by blood
Oh what the hell, just bury him anyways
he's still feet for the flowers
His heart beat like a timpani,
now it's cold as the showers.
then he's feed for the flowers.
And we're gonna need them,
for all the graves that we've
And now in closure, grab a shovel
I said roll the body over
Let it fall into fresh grave
Plant a spear to serve as headstone
Left uncarved without a name
But it's hard to tell with all the rain
If any dirt on top will stay
Oh, what the hell, just bury him anyways
He's still feet for the flowers
His heart beat like a timpani
Now it's cold as the showers
Then he's feet for the flowers
And we're gonna need them
Roll, roll, what's your roll?
what's one less thing less?