Day by day we stand in stalemate,

Hour by hour we hold and cannot wait,

Minute by minute we lose our brothers,

Second by second our moral crumbles.

The whistle blows! It is time to go,

Our resolve shines radiant.

We climb, We rush,

We cross this land of no man.

The land wasted with bodies and craters,

None of this compares to my old job as a waiter.

My brothers fall beneath my side,

For they have fought and soon died.

We must take the trench!

We will take this ground!

Their deaths cannot be in vain,

For I will live with this pain.

We made it, we did it,

We took their line,

For now we must stand fast,

And wait for the storm to pass.