Testo: Cryptic Wintermoon. Of Shadows... And Dark Things You Fear. Bonegrinder 1916.
The smell of poison gas ? fills the air
No need to search for death ? he will find you there
Soil drained with blood ? cities pulverized
Dead bodies twisted ? humans carbonized
Bonegrinder ? grinding bones ? eating them alive
Spitting them out dead ? no one will survive
War is the only answer
My gun spreads bullets like cancer
Bombs like rain ? day and night ? moving out ? suicide
Death angels ? from the sky ? descent from hell ? thousands die
Machinegun fire ? detonations ? rifle rounds ? devastation
Grinding bones ? artillery shell ? draining blood ? here is hell
Fire, roaring thunder ? will be my coming signs
Planting death and havoc ? among the defense lines
Thousand bodies ? lay ripped and torn
The sound of cannon fire ? roars like thunderstorm
Soil drained with blood ? cities pulverized
Dead bodies twisted ? humans carbonized
Bonegrinder ? grinding bones ? eating them alive
Spitting them out dead ? no one will survive
War is the only answer
My gun spreads bullets like cancer
Of Shadows... And Dark Thi
Cryptic Wintermoon
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