Of War Is At War

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He loved to ride on the rush of blood
Then bullets crushed straight to his heart
Down from his breast the cross fell off
Right from his hands the color flaked

Defeated the men and saved all his sons

Destroyed their shields and burnt down their guns
No, he won't serve his time anymore

So he cried: "All hail the king!" And died!

The armies still march in straight lines
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