A Prussian Requiem: Introduction to Moltke / The March - John Powell

I love Paris in the spring

But time was wrong

For sunning and sipping the fruit of the Marne

Some said look right

But I looked left as Schlieffen’s shadow fell

And the ground opened up

March

March onward

March toward victory

Toward glory

Away from truth

March

See the dark sky

At noon

Embrace the dark, the dust

The parts of friends

And the foes that fly past

In a moment as time stands still

Rose of thorns

Made of steel

Sound so loud — hear it any minute

A red glare in the sky

A red noise in your head

A red mist in their eyes

March, March

Over the top!