The dryest desert
is looking for
quenching its thirst
for human blood

They stand together
to resist
the marching boots
of the grim reaper

One final doubt
buys some time
For death has cast
its shadow

Thousands
to a mass grave
Thousands
doomed to death

The scent of pestilence
fills up the air
Below the pool of blood
the soil claims the dead

The bright sun
of summer solstice
grows colder and colder
as blood gets spilled

Only terror
is what's left
Anger and sorrow
take over

Vengeance
in the form
of assassination

The scent of pestilence
fills up the air
Below the pool of blood
the soil claims the dead

The bright sun
of summer solstice
grows colder and colder
as blood gets spilled

Thousands
to a mass grave
Thousands
doomed to death

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.