Letter from Bilbao

I am writing you this letter in desperation I'm afraid And I won't be back to Lindsay for the veterans' parade 'Cause I got banged up pretty good in a street-fight in Bilbao And I won't be coming home to see your young and pretty face I am far too young to feel so old And far too tired to care That I took down twenty bastards before they left me lying here When I landed here a year ago I know that I believed That it was better to die upon your feet than to live upon your knees And it's not that I care any less for that philosophy But I would spend one night with you in trade for all that I've achieved 'Cause I was never much on dreams And they were never big on me And I can't dream my way home from a grave-sight by the sea So I'll clench my fist and once more sing the Internationale And I'll say, "goodbye, I love you." 'Cause it's time that I should go