I know bullets will stop me
But frankly I don’t care
Because when they’ll be screaming
I have to be right there
I know that I’m not invincible
That I can surely die
I know that I can’t save them all
But I just have to try
I know that those bullets
They’ll cut right in my flesh and skin
They won’t hold before the barrier
Of my everlasting sin
They won’t care for those I saved
They won’t turn a second eye
They’ll only care about this everlasting
Sweet and rotten lie
No one really understands
The impact of what I see
The choices I have to make
Of which I eventually flee
My life it’s not worth the risk
But theirs is what I protect
And even though my halo’s broken
My wings shattered and wrecked
I’ll always stand guard
For when the evil takes a bite
Even though I’m a medic
You can be damn sure I’ll fight
French soldier of the 147th RIF (Fortress Infantry Regiment) having a tourniquet following a leg injury, May 14th, 1940. Photograph by Gaëliger Klair