Sifting through the vile of the human race The outlaws they all yearn for this moonlit space Laughter echoes true on their human pools With pride they all drool to kill the vermin in blue The sun it burns as the white turns to black The moon it turns, there’s no going back
Death squads are yearning to play Blue-bellies are dying today Grey riders stirring the storm Fighting for freedom forewarned The bluecoats imposing their will Rebels move in for the kill Church bells are ringing in haste Gravesites are waiting to taste The blood of their kind They march through space to die as it’s time The southern bells hum a wicked chime The ghosts of wars gone by Say only the lucky will die
Worthless is life for the maimed They sure all wish they were dead To join their brothers in arms Look at their souls they are scorned They dream of a mystical place To join their heroes there
Race, the blood of their kind They march through space to die has its time, The southern bells hum a wicked chime
They whisper a hymn from their youth A promise of life, Preparing to die by the feud Memories fly by, The bells started to ring The time has arrived Hums the warriors battle hymn Get ready to die
The spirits of soldiers displaced The fortune of life is erased The bullets that fly like rain Militia is plotting the end A levee of blood that follows Highlands looking like shores The infantry’s guiding the way Charging they yell they are
Stained with blood of their kind They march through space To die has its time, The southern bells hum a wicked chimeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
