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• Artiste: Reaper
• Titre: 1943
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Out in the field we are fallen Frozen to death in the cold Undeniable, we were born and so Asking each other for nothing Paying a horrible price So dispensable is our sacrifice Winter, the coming after ages That marksmen screams and rages The fire, the fortune, the victory has come Watching the heavens blazing Catching the frost on the ground (?) Eat away ?, hear the waiting sound Most are drumming and shaking Wish they would shut and explore We have come to bear this heavy load(?) Winter, the coming after ages That marksmen screams and rages The fire, the fortune, the victory has come We walk this land of rock until the end of time The future once for vultures, now for deafening crowd The time and time again, the heart, my never will ? Till out of history the sensible must feel Winter, the coming after ages That marksmen screams and rages The fire, the fortune, the victory of anger And dying feast of nothing And one by one we're passing The glory of hope is not still gone