Daggers at our necks? Cannons at our backs? How long do we go on with our holocaust rehearsals? This doomsday bread? This balance of terror? How long
In The dusty Kiev streets it is deadly fucking grey, And the voices on the radio all speak of prophesy? But the wormwood in the air left a bitter taste
There are those who believe that hell does not exist In a place of world-wide shamelessness A dreadful trace of heartlessness Not just of the ones who
The wind blows hot dust into eyes, clogs nostrils with human soot Hell smells just like this? of death and sulfur burning The new wind silences the
Remember those words that they buried you with? The ones that couldn?t stand the silence? That took off the dog tag and left you to rot? How many years
the hungry Of wonderful times to come When they speak of peace? War is coming When they speak of love? Hatred is coming When they speak of life? Death
of Rus? paid an awful price One in three were cut down as the reaper swung his scythe A swarm of red locusts brought pestilence and plague Starvation and death
the Cheka?s political liquidations Flowers for the funeral wreaths of a quarter million dead Flowers for the Nazi?s barbaric Barbarossa Flowers for a memorial to children burned