I hear the sound of marching feet
The drums of war do loudly beat
The peal of bells does emanate
While throngs distressed paticipate.
I hear the sound of ramparts roar
There bides no glory in a war
Mass explosions and missiles flare
While cries of sorrow fill the air.
I hear the sound of shuffling feet
The muted call of last retreat
What good was all this killing for
I pray we go to war no more !