Long is the hour for the waiting man,
The front line is to be ours, awaiting the command,
Some sit silently on the floor, bemused an empty gazed,
I go through my gear once more, already knowing all is in place.

And as the bugle call goes blaring,
We know that this might be our final call.

Form the line, you have had your rest!
Rising! Fighting!
When the going gets tough they send in the best!
Lightning! Striking!
The wait is over, we are taking the head
Bring it on we are not afraid!
Keep your head clear or you´ll end up dead
Blood´s left no room for rust on our blades
Take the day!

Scattered remains of our own troops, we meet as we advance,
Turn around while you can you fools, you won´t stand a chance,
But deep within their eyes you see, hope mixed with respect,
They´re here, the men from beyond the sea, the fight is not over yet.

And as the bugle call goes blaring,
We know that this might be our final call.

Form the line, you have had your rest!
Rising! Fighting!
When the going gets tough they send in the best!
Lightning! Striking!
The wait is over, we are taking the head!
Bring it on we are not afraid!
Keep your head clear or you´ll end up dead!
Blood´s left no room for rust on our blades!
Take the day!