For thirty years and more they’ve fought the demons of that war
and when they think they’ve conquered them, those demons shout for more
blood and life from those aged young men who gave their very soul;
and thirty years of life in hell have extracted Satan’s toll.

With sweat and tears and dreams and fears and all the memories,
those aged young men lose time and track of truth and sanity
and when, in a moment’s lucid thought, they know they can’t go on
they cry inside and face the wall; eleven thousand days have gone.

Eleven thousand days - each wrapped in fifty-eight thousand names!
And these old young men try to allow themselves to feel that awful pain.
But deep inscribed in each of them is an all-consuming guilt;
the memory of their friends is etched upon the memorial that’s been built.

Look at these aged and old young men; look deep inside their hearts.
What do you see? Can you feel and find what is tearing them apart?
Give them your hand and hold it firm while the pain inside them burns
and pray to Him who hears your prayers that the young men may return.