Called on behalf of war There is no space for mercy We turn death into fate There is no space for prisioners
Powder's smell!
You've lost before even started Feel the wrath of Satan He's marching and crushing skulls Through screams and killing machines
The smell of burning flesh And black powder fills the air Warm blood covers the ground Charred smoldering bones over the place We're rifling through the ruins to kill survivorsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
