We're not going backwards, We're just killing onward to die Put that knife away My first thought, a dragon The two contending marches Put that knife away She'll sting you to death like a swarm of hornets from the hive Sign my name to press hard, there are three copies You'll put me in the grave In the grave We're not going backwards, we're just killing onward to die Put that knife away Making progress...that of a dead man Constant last words The last word