That there is a blood it is memory,
It's memory of our fights.
That there is a bullet, it cold metal,
It flies on wings of fate.
The Remorse is a way,
It's to conduct us.
The Remorse it a fear,
It will depress us.
Rusty crosses on hills,
It is graves, of ours the soldier.
Their pain in an eternal hell,
It we should understand of remorse.
The Remorse is a way,
It's to conduct us.
The Remorse it a fear,
It will depress us.
What truth, dead men hide?
It is the Bloody truth about the Death.
The Soldier's soul is awakened,
And it waits for repentance.
1 | Up To Last A Bloody Drop |
2 | War In Subconsciousness |
3 | He Is A Killer |
4 | The Soldier's Memory |
5 | Demon Of Hate |
6 | The Son Of The Soldier |
7 | The Sniper's Notes |
8 | T.N.T. |