We'll play it smart, no brash attack We'll land (from) afar and close the circle again So keep in mind the spirit here We're liberators, not conquerors
The sun, its rise is gradual yet fills the sky And we, alike the sun, will rise and dominate the land below
Kill, maim, burn! I push, grind! Here confusion reigns Kill, maim, burn! We crack, drive! At Ad Decimum
Outside Carthage, my good friend John (the Armenian) - he smashed the Vandals and killed the king's brother When Gelimer, the Vandal king, came on the scene, he fell to his knees
"My brother, he lies so broken, torn, and glassy-eyed" The sad king, he stopped his army there to bury Ammatus
John pursued the king of (the) Vandals for days while I marched and took Carthage Open arms greeted us at the gate Tomorrow's sun will rise again on African RomeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
