We had crossed our lines and dug in
On fields that were once green
Rushing and falling, our conscience in our ears
We won the war and floated
High as pride can climb
Home across the ocean to find all our gods were dead

In our eyes shine nothing
But youth and all its flame
Feeding on itself as if the devil may care

In an axiom is religion
"To eat, drink, and be merry"
We danced on the altar "for tomorrow we die"

Everything's been figured, but figured wrong
The good time rags are all gone
Everything's been figured, but figured wrong
My "Oxford Bags" are all worn

"At 18 our convictions are hills from which we look
At 45 they're caves into which we hide"

I was high as pride can climb
Climbing to salvation
No one was saved and no one born again