See all the Super Bowl Commercials, teasers, previews, and more then vote for your favorites.
See all the Commercials from the 2019 Grammy Awards.
See all the Music from the Super Bowl Ads as well as
songs played during the pre-game show and the Big Game.
A helmet for my pillow, 
A poncho for my bed, 
My rifle rests across my chest- 
The stars swing overhead. 
 
The whisper of the kunai, 
The murmur of the sea, 
The sighing palm and night so calm 
Betray no enemy. 
 
Hear! river bank so silent 
You men who sleep around 
That foreign scream across the stream- 
Up! Fire at the sound! 
 
Sweeping over the sandspit 
That blocks the Tenaru 
With Banzai-boast a mushroomed host 
Vows to destroy our few. 
 
Into your holes and gunpits! 
Kill them with rifles and knives! 
Feed them with lead until they are dead- 
And widowed are their wives. 
 
Sons of the mothers who gave you 
Honor and gift of birth 
Strike with the knife till blood and life 
Run out upon the earth. 
 
Marines, keep faith with your glory 
Keep to your trembling hole. 
Intruder feel of Nippon steel 
Can't penetrate your soul. 
 
Closing, they charge all howling 
Their breasts all targets large. 
The gun must shake, the bullets make 
A slaughter of their charge. 
 
Red are the flashing tracers, 
Yellow the bursting shells. 
Hoarse is the cry of men who die 
Shrill are the woundeds' yells. 
 
God, how the night reels stricken! 
She shrieks with orange spark. 
The mortar's lash and cannon's crash 
Have crucified the dark. 
 
Falling, the faltering foemen 
Beneath our guns lie heaped. 
By greenish glare of rocket's flare 
We see the harvest reaped. 
 
Now has the first fierce onslaught 
Been broken and hammered back. 
Hammered and hit, from hole and pit- 
We rise up to attack! 
 
Day bursts pale from a gun tube, 
The gibbering night has fled. 
By light of dawn the foe has drawn 
A line behind his dead. 
 
Our tanks clank in behind him, 
Our riflemen move out. 
Their hearts have met our bayonet- 
It's ended wit a shout. 
 
"Cease fire!" -the words go ringing, 
Over the heaps of the slain. 
The battle's won, the Rising Sun 
Lies riddled on the plain. 
 
St. Michael, angel of battle 
We praise you to God on high. 
The foe you gave was strong and brave 
And unafraid to die. 
 
Speak to the Lord for our comrades, 
Killed when the battle seemed lost. 
They went to meet a bright defeat- 
The hero's holocaust. 
 
False is the vaunt of the victor, 
Empty our living pride. 
For those who fell there is no hell- 
Not for the brave who died.

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