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Sifting through the vile of the human race

The outlaws they all yearn for this moonlit space

Laughter echoes true on their human pools

With pride they all drool to kill the vermin in blue

The sun it burns as the white turns to black

The moon it turns, there’s no going back

Death squads are yearning to play

Blue-bellies are dying today

Grey riders stirring the storm

Fighting for freedom forewarned

The bluecoats imposing their will

Rebels move in for the kill

Church bells are ringing in haste

Gravesites are waiting to taste

The blood of their kind

They march through space to die as it’s time

The southern bells hum a wicked chime

The ghosts of wars gone by

Say only the lucky will die

Worthless is life for the maimed

They sure all wish they were dead

To join their brothers in arms

Look at their souls they are scorned

They dream of a mystical place

To join their heroes there

Race, the blood of their kind

They march through space to die has its time,

The southern bells hum a wicked chime

They whisper a hymn from their youth

A promise of life,

Preparing to die by the feud

Memories fly by,

The bells started to ring

The time has arrived

Hums the warriors battle hymn

Get ready to die

The spirits of soldiers displaced

The fortune of life is erased

The bullets that fly like rain

Militia is plotting the end

A levee of blood that follows

Highlands looking like shores

The infantry’s guiding the way

Charging they yell they are

Stained with blood of their kind

They march through space

To die has its time,

The southern bells hum a wicked chime