Nights dark face of spoil shines bright Over the fields of our hateful war I feel weary and sick Fear nothing but death
I want to break out to quit and surrender Master's rotten voice Commands and guides me
My thoughts drift away Certain warmth touches my mind Last summers souvenirs Memories of faded days
I feel the chilly winds of death Creeping up my back and taking control of me
When the night falls down on me I hear the screams of death When the cold wind touches my face I smell the seents of death I can smell it, I can hear it I can see it, I can feel
Now its our time to fight Shells and balls of fire Leading us to our grave Maybe just some yards ahead
I stumble my way through the mixture Of barbed wire and blood I forget to think, to react or to fight Waves of soldiers rise and fall
The last thing I feel Is the frozen pain of death Opening me the gates Of Satan's glowing hell