Song | Distinguish To Kill |
Artist | Bathory |
Album | Katalog |
作词 : Quorthon | |
System the crocked cross | |
the code yellow star | |
machinery of death will grind | |
the trains keep on rolling | |
both nearby and far | |
the cargo is of Abrahams kind | |
Gasping for air | |
in the stench and the heat | |
losing track of the number of days | |
only the cramped space | |
keeps people afeet | |
while all hope vanishes like a haze | |
All comes to hault | |
and the doors slam wide open | |
then all are called out on the ground | |
a sweet sour smell | |
fills all lungs on the platform | |
the roar of the death machine sounds | |
Phallos of death | |
giant chimneys arise | |
spewing ashes and fire way high | |
the disciplin of racial purity | |
the code by which you all | |
****in' must die | |
Distinguish to Kill | |
Distinguish to Kill | |
Shiny black leather boots | |
peaked caps in grey | |
sporting the deaths head mean grin | |
yellow star patch | |
and pink triangle displayed | |
numbers inked into bear skin | |
Rows of barbed wire | |
high voltaged in miles | |
ensurance to kill all last hope | |
the only way out of this hell is to go | |
through the chimney | |
like thick burning smoke | |
Burning the bodies | |
the owens glow white | |
as the heat cracks the skulls open wide | |
bodily human fluids joins the melted fat | |
running down the collecting pipes | |
Now grinding the piles | |
of burned bones to powder | |
the system perfected and complete | |
all to attain and remain in purity racialy | |
the wheels turn in deaths industry |
zuò cí : Quorthon | |
System the crocked cross | |
the code yellow star | |
machinery of death will grind | |
the trains keep on rolling | |
both nearby and far | |
the cargo is of Abrahams kind | |
Gasping for air | |
in the stench and the heat | |
losing track of the number of days | |
only the cramped space | |
keeps people afeet | |
while all hope vanishes like a haze | |
All comes to hault | |
and the doors slam wide open | |
then all are called out on the ground | |
a sweet sour smell | |
fills all lungs on the platform | |
the roar of the death machine sounds | |
Phallos of death | |
giant chimneys arise | |
spewing ashes and fire way high | |
the disciplin of racial purity | |
the code by which you all | |
in' must die | |
Distinguish to Kill | |
Distinguish to Kill | |
Shiny black leather boots | |
peaked caps in grey | |
sporting the deaths head mean grin | |
yellow star patch | |
and pink triangle displayed | |
numbers inked into bear skin | |
Rows of barbed wire | |
high voltaged in miles | |
ensurance to kill all last hope | |
the only way out of this hell is to go | |
through the chimney | |
like thick burning smoke | |
Burning the bodies | |
the owens glow white | |
as the heat cracks the skulls open wide | |
bodily human fluids joins the melted fat | |
running down the collecting pipes | |
Now grinding the piles | |
of burned bones to powder | |
the system perfected and complete | |
all to attain and remain in purity racialy | |
the wheels turn in deaths industry |