In the year of 1955
The horror began
Through humid lands a living nightmare
In a land like no other
Into an early grave An early grave

Stinging sweat in my eyes
Pushing further ahead
In this fruitless offensive
Unaware of what lies ahead
My grave is marked
I am, dead from this

Onto suffering
On blood stained fields
One more body
They are victims
They are dead
Another statistic
Another body on the field

Into an ambush Into the killing fields
Back to the front Into the killing fields
Into an ambush
On blood stained rice fields
Back to the front
Into an ambush