The pitch-black night pervaded by a flare Holding atrocious scenes of a moribund affair
The setting sun, salvation is the comfort of a grave Alas, this is the end, you’re leaving earth with a soul so cold
Behold the open sky once home to a solitary dove You hear them approaching in the vastness above
A murder of crows sweeps a cloak across the land where the defenseless men fell the murder does descend
Lords of war grow fat on fury among the slaughter of cultures that starve of hope
The tormented cry of the falling soldier will seem like a dead-silent scream All men are equal there Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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