Make his fight on the hill in the early day

Constant chill deep inside

Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey

On they fight, for they're right, yes, but who's to say?

For a hill, men would kill, why? They do not know

Stiffened wounds test their pride

Cats of five, still alive through the raging glow

Gone insane from the pain that they surely know

For whom the Door Knocks

Time marches on

For whom the Door Knocks