Novembers Fall - Warcult Тексты

In the wet fog
Slowly creeping in the mud
Smelling cold sweat
Shivering, cold hands
Shot, lead content in the air, turning round, a friend is dead
Rage, desire for revenge, loading our weapons

Struggle starting, slaying for justice, born to kill

And now we are all drowning in blood

Slow motion, then it seems to be endless
Counting dead bodies on the ground

Dead eyes staring through me and quiet mouths are shouting at me

We are lost in this battle. This is Warcult
The Slaying is to hard to bear
I am feeling inner pain, blood

Everywhere blood, friends are torn into pieces
Skin emaciated, my rage is arising…

Deathly pale crossfire, each on is an enemy
Deathly pale crossfire, all to die

Every further murder is a killer of your own

Too much of them, I can´t shoot them all, go to die!

There is no chance, we must surrender
Laying down our arms, hands behind our head
They brought us into a prison camp
There's no need, so they will shoot us all
They are shooting us in front of the wall
It is better to play dead

They are carrying me to my dead friends

I don´t know what to do

He's climbing out of the hill of corpses
The enemy is recognizing him
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