Letter from Bilbao

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 gravesite 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