Soil still cries Blood red teardrops Rain and rust combined in a quiet flow of blurred souvenirs The mirror of madness The taste of insanity We live a permanent dusk Everyday is a funeral journey The lined white crosses are landscapes Trenches are playgrounds Bunkers are cabines Now the death is silent but life tails to tear the silence out of the air Few lost souls roam over this green shroud Drunk on wooded perfumes The modest nature closes up on this sick animal called human No one wins Serenity is just the surface Pain is everywhere else No peace for the damned No salvation for the land of all war