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It's a dark nightmare, the massacre I saw
haunting me again in every single night
besieged by emptiness and fear
covered in the blood of the final fight.

Frozen to a sculpture, trapped in the trench
the smell of rotting flesh slowly fills the field
beyond this hell salvation is waiting
I won't rest until my fate is fulfilled.

Surrounded by grey smoke, under heavy fire
repulsing the waves of the attacking enemy
wounding a young boy, killing an older
the bullet of my gun is the key to serenity.

There's no guilt, no vengeance, no murder
keep on firing, till another one falls
a barricade built from unburied corpses
grenades blasting holes into our human wall.

Screaming of warmachines, speeches of ministers
preaching of peace with a gun in one hand
charged by the souls of the fallen
vultures screaming high above the land.

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