When the sun sinks slowly down

melting into a red pool

are you satisfied with what you’ve done

have you given just the best

and would your work pass this test

At night then

we run thru the halls of our fame

but the fame is long gone

try to grab the sword

but the iron burns signs of disgrace

into your flesh

the incapability of mediocricity

will rule your remaining life

and when did the sword start to become a knife ?

If you show fear

no one will protect you

so hide away those trembling hands

treacherous signs of weakness

the enemy won’t show any mercy.

At day then

we run on the battlefield

wading thru blood and bones

hear the echo of pain and death

a symphony of agony:

I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying tonight.

We are dying, we are dying, we are dying

in this fight.


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