---

1. His hand is small,
but he held the world in it
like a small bird
wounded by claw.
His victorious feast won't cure wounds,
Soot won't hide face-ache.

God's anger,
Thong of heavens
swallows sweat and dust.
Life in saddle,
shine of death
are on the blade of fate.

2. The whirlpool of the Horde
put all the evil spirits together,
German or Scythian split a booty.
Smoke of Attila's fires brings plague
and barbarian motive burns the faith.

"West is here
at hand,
we'll knock out the door." -
Spirit of heath spread the word,
Angry Asian beast!

Refrain:
There is a blue flag of sky over us.
There is no fear in shine of cold eyes.
There are no rules in this dawn time.
Until the sunset death is judging us.

3. Deadly love, guileful fate
have funeral feast at wedding.
Vine is poisoned,
poison is on his lips
like a bitter kiss,
the last in his life.

Hop through throat,
Blood through throat,
Savage drank off his life...
Who is now
the son of winds -
cruel tsar of Huns?

Refrain

4. "West is here
at hand,
we'll knock out the door." -
Spirit of heath spread the word,
Angry Asian beast!

---

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