a static com line is the only hope for one last shot,
a solid life line to command the soldiors we've got

the signal disipates, the call-tone degregates
now i'm all alone, waiting for that tone.

as the grey scale fades the units fall untimly death
holding tightly to the last words on his dying breath

to this unit's thought, to my company
to thier valiant fight, to their memory.

pushing forward to the only fighting line, we hold
surpressing fire over head we never thought we'd fold

numbers do subtract, the fallen multiply
we were fighting for our lives, this is why they died.

medic with all your might
tell this man, he'll be alright
this rotting planet, has forsaken him
his fighting chances are looking grim.

medic, take my life
send this letter to my wife
this rotting planet will never be free
this rotting planet is where you must leave me

our medic "tompson", was the best luetenant in our troop
his skills surpassed ANY single man in our group

always first in line, he was never wrong
always takes his time, never takes too long.

these city streets taken over by the charging blasts
painful crys bounce, he knew he had to get there fast.

restless nights, mournfull days
couragious fights, scornfull ways

never forget that vauge look upon his worried eyes
he never planned, to take the time he needs to say goodbye

to a captain's friend, to his memory
to his widowed kin, to his company

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