And on the day the work is done
We toil away in fickle sun
And on the day the wire is spun
And so the dismal work is done
All over here its darkened still
A cumulus of pride and will
Dissolved in all the oil and steam
The will of all our hopeless schemes
The line is long, the line is great
And humans turning back to clay
Right there beneath the fickle sun
The empty eyes, the end begun
Oh, the crew is done
Now the boats are all astray
Theres no one rowing anyway
Theres no one rowing anymore
The end has come, the men ashore
All the boys are going down
Falling over, one night gone
All the boys are turned around
Long for soldiers everyone
All the boys are falling down
Fallen to ashes in the ground
When I was a young soldier
I turned my eyes directly to the sun
To burn off all that I had seen
To wipe away what I had to be
To be recast as something new
When I was a young soldier
The brittle foil, the breaks of light
When I was a young soldier
Click click click click
When I was a young soldier
Click click click click
And on the day the work is done
And on the day the chick had sung
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the wind had sung
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the work is done
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the chick had sung
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the wind had sung
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the work is done
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the chick had sung
When I was a young soldier
And on the day the wind had sung
When I was a young soldier
When I was a young soldier
When I was a young soldier
The brittle foil, the breaks of light
The brittle foil, the breaks of light