"...I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees, coughing blood as he screamed for his mother. And I fell by his side, and that's how we died clinging like kids to each other. And I lay in the mud, and the guts and the blood, and I wept as his body grew colder. And I called for my mother, and she never came, though it wasn't my fault, and I wasn't to blame. The day not half over and ten thousand slain, and now there's nobody remembers our names, and that's how it is for a soldier..."
Del álbum "1916"
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