Arm in arm, hand in hand
towards the land we go,
the four thousand, four hundred
who never made it home.
Gave our blood to warm the sea,
smiles for mothers’ picture frames,
our bones to stiffen sand
as inch by inch we take the land.
Omaha, Utah, Juno, Gold, Sword,
this is Neptune’s lost boys calling,
laying tracks for Overlord,
faint shapes in the mist, forever falling.