Stalingrad - Plateau Sigma

I was a soldier sent to Stalingrad

a walking shadow through debris corpses and glasses

I was a soldier sent to Stalingrad

Proserpine’s lips has put her mark

Soul shakes, dance of the mortal mist

God of death’s tears, flowing deep

hands are stained by the blood’s beast

bullets, other nails of Jesus wrists

cold is violent, guides us to sleep

sleeping valley with no dreams

Ghosts can’t see the sun of men

and we marched like 'em on this fallen land

cold shrouds, seen through eyes of old dying men,

emptiest sky received the machine gun’s prayer.

We are knights of purifier fire

we sheer the apocalypse

we only need more pyres

we deliver mother death.

let’s march, eating snow and terror

weapons in our shoulders, messengers of sorrow

red star, red flag, red star, ‘til the days of fire

weapons in our right hand,

‘til the judgement day comes

It’s for the smile of a child that we die?

it’s for that flag that we wanted high in this stranger sky?

if you believe to trade the blood for the ground

death always wins with his dice

the cannons sing and the snow trembles

and once again eternal night