Bloodied Yet Unbowed
I told you once, I told you a thousand times, no regrets, no remorse
No four A.M. whiskey-soaked wisdom or bloody-knuckled politic
Do I regret? Not a single moment
Will I ever repent? Will I ever repent?
And you may say that I have lost to a better man
And well, this may be true, I cannot protest or lie
Yet maybe one who did not dare to be wrong or even to be right
To those who did not dare to sing out of tune
Or sing a different song
To march to the beat of a different drum
And speak the truths others fear
Just give me one thing to live, or die for
To live. give me one thing to live or die for
So here's to comrades near and far, so raise a glass, raise your voices
Years have passed between us, some would say that they have not been kind
Yet these are the scars of war
And we remain yet we stand bloodied yet unbowed
We are. we are bloodied yet unbowed
Wrath is the standard with which I bear the flag do we fly marching to war
Only a nation that dare not speak it's name, nor can ever shed it's pain
It's pain
It's pain
So here's to comrades near and far
Who've raised a glass, raised hell
Years have passed, closer to the grave
But this is the song we chose to sing
To the bitter end, to the end, to the bitter end!
No four A.M. whiskey-soaked wisdom or bloody-knuckled politic
Do I regret? Not a single moment
Will I ever repent? Will I ever repent?
And you may say that I have lost to a better man
And well, this may be true, I cannot protest or lie
Yet maybe one who did not dare to be wrong or even to be right
To those who did not dare to sing out of tune
Or sing a different song
To march to the beat of a different drum
And speak the truths others fear
Just give me one thing to live, or die for
To live. give me one thing to live or die for
So here's to comrades near and far, so raise a glass, raise your voices
Years have passed between us, some would say that they have not been kind
Yet these are the scars of war
And we remain yet we stand bloodied yet unbowed
We are. we are bloodied yet unbowed
Wrath is the standard with which I bear the flag do we fly marching to war
Only a nation that dare not speak it's name, nor can ever shed it's pain
It's pain
It's pain
So here's to comrades near and far
Who've raised a glass, raised hell
Years have passed, closer to the grave
But this is the song we chose to sing
To the bitter end, to the end, to the bitter end!
Credits
Writer(s): Alan Averill, Paul Desmond Gawley, Ciaran Williams, Simon O'leary, Michael Flynn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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