Sun goes down and death warms upnBattle grounds are foundnGive up on common groundnLight it up and burn it downnnSun goes down and death warms upnPicking scabs and keeping scorenCover up the morning soresnOne thousand cigarrettes..nOne more... More, More, More.nnOne thousand cigarettes and countingnNo better way to kill an eveningnnSun goes down and death warms upnBattle grounds are foundnOn the rocks and battered down, down, downnnI'm sending you're Royal Artillery