The drum stick clashes,
Upon the beaten drum.
The drummer boy follows,
As the many soldiers run.

In the heart of battle,
The drummer boy stands,
Keeping the soldiers marching,
Across the far off lands.

His rhythmic beat
Provokes the bull from within.
On the bloody field,
They are the best they ever have been.

When the drummer boy falls,
The soldiers fall with him,
When the drummer boy goes on,
Not all continue with him.

When the bullets start to fall,
The drummer boy hides.
For what would happen?
If the drummer boy dies?

Down fall the ashes,
There is smoke over the hills.
The battle has finished,
Yet the drummer boy has chills.