---

He sat in a room
in a square of the color of blood.
He'd rule the whole world
if there was a way that he could.
He'd sit and he'd stare
at the minarets on top of the towers.
For he was a beast
as he hatched his new plans to gain power.

And the snow fell
covering the dreams and ideals.
And the snow fell
freezing the blood and the wheels.
And the snow fell
they had to keep on for survival.
And the snow fell
defeating the beast's only rival.

They took the old roads
that Napoleon had taken before.
They fought as a force as a light
against the darkness in a holy war.
One day they were looking around
and the sun was shining on the cold flowers.
The next day they were freezing to death
in the sleet and the ice cold showers.

Then came the deadly roads
back from the stairs of their retreat.
The cold racked their bodies
but worse was the pain of defeat.
Many people who had hailed them once
now turned and looked away.
These people now knew
that the beast was on it's way.

You finally came back
to the borders of your fatherland.
Now enemies came
traitors everywhere at hand.
Many people who had fought and died
knowing that they had to win.
It still sickens my heart
to see the picture of the red flag in Berlin.

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