This desolate darkened battlefield soaked in my cold black blood Lies empty, dead and scarred This desolate broken body of mine bound by pure will Stands victorious and tall With the strenght of a thousand and one Devils I faced the madmans odds Ready to be devoured On the razorsharp, traitorous edge of the end with a roar I broke the line I saw the bastards fall Cursed I can´t break the spell I stride right through this hell In league with death and pain My last drop of blood all I need Still I´m burning but never fearing There´s no healing in sight but victory is mine Wounds are all I am made of, conflict is my sould Rising in terror So greive me, I´m vibrantly dead I´m forcing my own will to live