|
Battlefield and the moon is shining bright |
|
Warriors fighting for their homes keeping those behind |
|
Cold answers too an every spears, answers to an arrows |
|
'Till the morningsun cries it's first of tears |
|
And sees only sorrow |
|
We thought our resistance |
|
Is enough for those men so poor |
|
But we lost our village |
|
And everything we were fighting for |
|
Revenge? |
|
Anger strikes straight through their thoughts |
|
And bitterness fills all their hearts |
|
Seeking for the enemy from woods |
|
Boiling of their blood starts |
|
Fire burning bright from their rage |
|
Blood flows all over misery's stage |
|
Ah, god of thunder won't give their faith |
|
Watches the growing of seed of hate |
|
Fire burning bright from rage |
|
Blood's all over |
|
Raindrops hit their skins |
|
With water the blood is thin |
|
Tomorrow they're under the stones |
|
Nothing left but rotting flesh and bones |
|
This is reason and consequence |
|
No place for pity |
|
Honours leaves shall scatter |
|
On fields of fathers |