We watch our men go off to war:
 Fathers. Brothers. Sons.
 We wait alone and fight our fear;
 For we are Dorsai too.
 For we are Dorsai too.
 
 A commander must be loyal to his men,
 Not tied to a woman's bed.
 We share his name, but not his soul
 And we'll mourn him when he's dead.
 We'll mourn him when he's dead.
 
 Silver ships awash with flame;
 It stains the waiting crowd.
 Will our men return to us
 Or be honored among the dead?
 Or be honored among the dead?
 
 We watch our men go off to war:
 Fathers. Brothers. Sons.
 We wait alone and fight our fear;
 For we are Dorsai too.
 For we are Dorsai too.