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Perhaps I stabbed our Savior

In His sacred helpless side.

Yet I've called His name in blessing

When in after times I died.



Through the travail of the ages

Midst the pomp and toil of war

Have I fought and strove and perished

Countless times upon this star.



I have sinned and I have suffered

Played the hero and the knave

Fought for belly, shame or country

And for each have found a grave.



So as through a glass and darkly

The age long strife I see

Where I fought in many guises,

Many names - but always me.



So forever in the future

Shall I battle as of yore,

Dying to be born a fighter

But to die again once more.

