You'll take my life, but I'll take yours too. You'll fire your musket, but I'll run you through, So, when you're waiting for the next attack, You'd better stand, there's no turning back. The bugle sounds, and the charge begins, But on this battlefield no one wins. The smell of acrid smoke and horses breath, As I plunge on into certain death.
The horse, he sweats, with fear, we break to run. The mighty roar of the Russian guns, And as we race towards the human wall, The screams of pain, as my comrades fall. We hurdle bodies, that lay on the ground, And the Russians fire another round. We get so near, yet so far away. We won't live to fight another day.
We get so close, near enough to fight. When a Russian gets me in his sights, He pulls the trigger, and I feel the blow. A burst of rounds take my horse below. And as I lay there, gazing at the sky, My body's numb, and my throat is dry, And as I lay forgotten and alone, Without a tear, I draw my parting groan.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
