The first war is lost, but hope's alive our division holds the eastern borders make the olah bleed for every piece of soil standing for our oath, against the Antant-orders.
Kolozsvár is lost, it has almost torn the heart with tears in our eyes we're leaving the station many thousands fled from barbaric revenge firing the flame of our nation's annihilation.
Hungary is cut to pieces by demarcation lines the Carpats break the echoes of hungarian prayers the capitol's in silence, it's lost to apathy the government is led by communist betrayers.
Romanians before us, red cowards behind every bullet honours the names of our elders who swore the oath many centuries ago to defend Erdély against treacherous invaders.
The supplies stolen by the infamous Lenin-boys the land of my birth lost to inhuman creatures fighting till the blood runs through my veins my sword tears the skull of a communist preacher.
Also the brave fall at the end, when fate is fulfilled our last breath accomplishes the final mission blood and death writing the pages of history and the remembrance of the Székely division.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
