We are black clad warriors Silver skull upon our heads We will show the emperor That anger can't be quenched No land to claim our own no more Just the road we're marching on
We followed our duke and leader To his death, and with gloom Fought on with abandon and courage Our future is of no concern For us the tome of warfare rests On a page that can't be turned A crossroad in Belgium somewhere They call it Quatre Bras We'll fight the French aggressor The mighty Bonaparte! For us the tome of warfare rests On a page that can't be turned
The black horde marches through the eye of war Building rage and scorn, with a righteous fire So ease down your praise
Aim your gun well Let the bastards get close Be wise, old friend Abandon all hope Home lies beyond The curtains of death Vanquish tomorrow This may be the end So long...
The black horde marches through the eye of war Building rage and scorn, with a righteous fire So ease down your praise
The black horde marches through the eye of war Building rage and scorn, with a righteous fire So ease down your praise These are darkest of daysTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
