You know I never wanted much
Never more than you could give with the touch
Such a sympathetic bruise, but not a premature scar

But all these bloodthirsty angles rushing around your room
I wonder what we can do; I wonder what we should do
When the terrible trumpets play that sad marching tune
I wonder when they may lose; I wonder what did we lose

You know I never felt brand new
And I never expect to in this life
These days I cower too much beneath the blanket of bugs

But all these bloodthirsty angles rushing around your room
I wonder what we can do; I wonder what we should do
When the terrible trumpets play that sad marching tune
I wonder when they may lose; I wonder what did we lose

That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
That's what we do
When we lose
When we lose