none left but those who won't pass through the door
leaders who give no great degrees of hope
a million hours of climbing up that slope
and still the choice is made to fight the war
you do those things that honest folk abhor
the rules are not the thing that matter most
to those for whom the magic is the boast
and still the choice is made to fight the war
a year or two before you see the score
shallow the thought of those who have to hide
but lesser even the rewards of pride
and still the choice is made to fight the war
there was a garden in that place before
you burned it down and left a wasteland sere
there was no need you had the time to spare
and still the choice is made to fight the war
you have to ask us to give so much more
although in truth there's never been the need
the monster speaks in hunger and in greed
and still the choice is made to fight the war
none can it seems an honest time restore
honour has been delivered to its grave
there is no decent moment left to save
and still the choice is made to fight the war
