Testo Dressed To Kill

I suppose you could say he was a common man Son of the soil, born to the land He was slow in his way of walking and talking Slow to anger, a gentle giant man But a scarlet coat with tartan ties Lit a fire in a young man's eyes He left his farm, dreams to fulfill Came back as a soldier, dressed to kill From that first day, he was made to feel inside A need for glory, a soldier's pride They filled his head with stories of wars Of bygone battles where heroes fought and died So with eager heart he learned his trade To fight and kill with gun and blade And the men he met he was soon to find Were the kind to live - and die - beside For the army needs its heroes To fight and die and show no fear But the medal they pinned on his chest Was a cross too heavy to bear When war came his thoughts soon changed Now death, not glory, fear not fame There was no-one here, no tellers of stories No great leaders, no-one else to blame A savage pain began to grow In a blinding rage he charged the foe No thoughts of pride as he heard men fall No thoughts of honour - no thoughts at all They said he was brave, his deeds were glorified To kindle fire in others' eyes But dead men's faces through nights without sleep Exposed the truth that lay behind the 'hero' lie So he hit the bottle hard and long And he sold his medal, cast in bronze For he knew that war would win in the end While the myth of heroes shackles decent men