We are the forlorn hope.
We who go in first, first into the breach and first over the wall, first through fire and storm… first to be tattered and torn.
We kick and we smash, we fire are shots and follow through with a slash.
Our duty is but to die… to lead the army on it’s way… our death the price we pay.
We fear not death for it’s our duty someone has to do this job and we see no booty.
They say we fight for faith, for the king and for our own pride… but i tell you we fight for the brothers who stand next to us and behind us in this great line.
We carve a path through the enemy lines making way for our waves to follow,
and they walk over us on and on till our blood vessels are hollow.
We do not stop, we do not turn we are the forlorn hope and we go on,
Onwards to our death, onwards to glory!
And as the trumpets call and the drums and pipes crash and blare, the world stops to stand and stare…
For look upon those men who are over there!
They are the forlorn hope, and no finer troops will you ever spare!
Faris