I am writing you this letter in desperation I'm afraid
And I won't be back to Lindsay for the veterans' parade
'Cause I got banged up pretty good in a street-fight in Bilbao
And I won't be coming home to see your young and pretty face

I am far too young to feel so old
And far too tired to care
That I took down twenty bastards before they left me lying here

When I landed here a year ago I know that I believed
That it was better to die upon your feet than to live upon your knees
And it's not that I care any less for that philosophy
But I would spend one night with you in trade for all that I've achieved

'Cause I was never much on dreams
And they were never big on me
And I can't dream my way home from a grave-sight by the sea

So I'll clench my fist and once more sing the Internationale
And I'll say, "goodbye, I love you."

'Cause it's time that I should go