A bush road near the border, a convoy creeps along
Loaded up with men and boys all fit and keen and strong.
The second truck is doomed that day to have belly blown away
And the power in the young man's legs is gone.
But that's just a memory now,
Fading down the sandy trails of time.
But time's such a healer somehow;
He keeps it to himself but it's always in his mind.
He's a wheelchair warrior, coming down the line
Doing mighty fine, coming down the line
He's a wheelchair who'll never lose his pride,
He'll take the hand of friendship but pity's pushed aside.
Signal to the ops room, the fire-force must go.
The gunships wing their way to zero in upon the foe.
Fifteen Troopies take them on,
Although the they're almost fifty strong.
The battle's won but a young man was laid low.
But that's just a memory now,
Fading down the sandy trails of time.
But time's such a healer somehow;
He keeps it to himself but it's always in his mind.
He's a wheelchair warrior, coming down the line
Doing mighty fine, coming down the line
He's a wheelchair who'll never lose his pride,
He'll take the hand of friendship but pity's pushed aside.
Rehabilitation, therapy and pain,
Artificial limbs, practice time and time again.
Pomp and splendor, pageantry, medals for his bravery
Didn't pay the price for what he gave.
But that's just a memory now,
Fading down the sandy trails of time.
But time's such a healer somehow;
He keeps it to himself but it's always in his mind.
He's a wheelchair warrior, coming down the line
Doing mighty fine, coming down the line
He's a wheelchair who'll never lose his pride,
He'll take the hand of friendship but pity's pushed aside.