On your face a bright flash of combat grin
Marked with the blood a flag on a rock
the sign on a banner will accuse others

hide the stains of blood on your hands

your hell isn't called a war

And destruction is only a working
blood, death, it's a hell for others
It's the only a mission on the Front line


the order is received already
you're not to choose any more

and as mechanism appendage
you will be kill without a word
And all the world which is surrounded you

you will tear down in stones and ashes
You're not a beast, you 're not a maniaс
you 're simply $$#asin


your hell isn't called a war
And destruction is only a working

blood, death, that's a hell for others
It's the only a mission on the Front line


the evil fate is your second name
but to struggle with fate is the same work
There is someone for whom your death

It's the only a mission on the Front line

There're not innocents in the firing line

all logs in a fire chamber are guiltless
as the master of puppets in the firing line
death deftly plays his servant


On your face a bright flash of combat grin
Marked with the blood a flag on a rock

the sign on a banner will accusing you
hiding blood on hands of the enemy