TOO THE TREES
To the trees my Captain yells
Across this open field of green
Flowers blooming from spring rains
Will they be the last thing I smell or see
Are there Cross Hairs locked upon my brain
Will a gray pill be the last thing that I feel
All those trees, are those just branches looking at me
Or will this effort to reach them be the death of me
Leaving my bones to rot among the flowers in this field
Do I run as fast as I can with my breath held in prayer
Or do I play the coward using my brothers as a shield
Letting them taste first the fiery breath of Hell’s lead
If in the trees our enemy is waiting there for you and me to kill
When to the trees the Captain yells do we jump up and run like hell
Should we low crawl chins dug into the mud hoping were not shelled
Will we be a fool if we do stand up and charge toward the row of trees
Or will we die in this field of green if we raise our head above the weeds
Life is a war, every breath is a chance it will be the last one we breathe
To the trees like the charge ordered by General Robert E Lee
Like life itself no matter what we do, doubting itself is a gamble
Do we run in hope or do we cower in fear, do we die here, or there
This field to me so beautiful, there are worse places to be my grave
If we just cower here in the mud and never step out onto life’s field
We know we will never get out of this life alive, so what do we do
Hold your breath and pray, now step into this field of life or death
If in life we choose to never seek the thrills, then a cowards life we live
The fields of life we will not cross, nor the flowers will we ever smell
If we lived our life without the thrills, can we truly say we ever lived
To the trees child, to the trees, up off your ass and face your trees