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A nation bleeding proudly in the cold hours of dawn

duly cruel leaders and men carrying out the dirty war

annihilating the resentful enemies of the land

executing the master plan under the black veils of the night.

Silent flights of death piercing the nocturnal skies

lonely screams of pain lulling the stars

in the centers of detention the victory was for the right

an eternal debt to the dictators and to their fucking great groups of tasks.

But the work of the armies dark remained unfulfilled

the defeated ones spread their venom writing the liar history

the unreflecting pitiful nation enriched the sons of the enemies

and now they rose again from the black pits of their damned mortality.

Renewing the call for war...