A cross of red or cross of blue
Syringes of medicine and poison too
A soothing beam of vapors and mists
Heals the wounds like Mother's kiss
Eyes of ice look around
They call his name within the crowd
Run and dodge, dodge and run
They're sick, they're hurt, they need his gun
Heavy's down, Sniper's busy
Spy is cloaked and Soldier's dizzy
Scout is injured, his cry is shrill
Medic finds him easily on the hill
A moment of healing and all is well,
Now back to the battle, back to Hell.