Fighting tin armies with soldiers made of lead who's wars and ideals are in a a child's a head. They fight to the death. They fight till their worn and never lay rest till the battle is done. They know themselves angels killing devils and villains who are killing young men with women and children.
Each side is to blame because both armies are wrong all blinded by flags and deafened by songs. There's no blood on their hands that generals can see they send to glory their souls are clean.
Because they are nothing but children with boots made of tin mortar fragments made of plastic that tears up leaden skin