Nights dark face of spoil shines bright  Over the fields of our hateful war  I feel weary and sick  Fear nothing but death    I want to break out to quit and surrender  Master's rotten voice  Commands and guides me    My thoughts drift away  Certain warmth touches my mind  Last summers souvenirs  Memories of faded days    I feel the chilly winds of death  Creeping up my back  and taking control of me    When the night falls down on me  I hear the screams of death  When the cold wind touches my face  I smell the seents of death  I can smell it, I can hear it  I can see it, I can feel    Now its our time to fight  Shells and balls of fire  Leading us to our grave  Maybe just some yards ahead    I stumble my way through the mixture  Of barbed wire and blood  I forget to think, to react or to fight  Waves of soldiers rise and fall    The last thing I feel  Is the frozen pain of death  Opening me the gates  Of Satan's glowing hell