Testo: Iced Earth. High Water Mark.

[Music]

Lee:
"It was very close, yesterday,
I thought for sure that they would break
But this attack, that I have planned
A massive strike across open land
In the center, they will break (will they break?)
But plan it well, everything's at stake
We'll hit 'em hard, not a silent gun
Before the infantry's begun.

"Execute it well. We risk everything"
"It's in God's hands now"

Longstreet:
"General Lee, I must tell you straight that
I believe this attack will fail.
No 15,000 men ever made
Will overtake that ridge today.
A mile charge over open ground,
With Yankee cannon gunnin' us down"

Lee:
"We do our duty, we do what we must.
And in my plan, you will trust"

(Thousands die, On this day)

"Execute it well,We risk everything."
"It's in Gods hands now"

[Music]

The rebel cannon break the silence.
150 guns make up their cannonade.

They must destroy the Union center,
Before the infantry can launch their grand assault.

The Yankees are returning fire.
(The earth shakes violently)
In Washington D.C. Lincoln feels the Earth shake.

What happens here this day.
The fate of this nation:
In the balance it will hang,
Consumed with the pain.

The courage of the blue,
The valour of the grey.
So very sad but true,
Consumed with the pain.

The Virginians are the chosen
In wait behind the trees on Seminary Ridge.

Longstreet's slow to give the orders.
The lines emerge, a mile, 15,000 men.

The charge begins in all its grandeur,

(To the copse of trees)

For many of these men, they know it is their last.

The slaughter now ensues,
Bodies fall like rain.
They valiantly pursue,
Yet doomed to remain.

At the double quick they charge,
The canister rips through them.
To the mouth of hell they march
Glory, the only gain.

[Music]

Armistead:
"We\'re almost there my boys!
I\'ve never served with finer.
We must push forward boys,
And bayonet the Yankee tyrants!
To the copse of trees we charge,
To crush the Union center,
And when they turn and run
An open road leads us to freedom!"

Lee:
"It's over now we are retreating,
I never thought that we'd be beaten.
All this blood is on my hands,
The thousands dead due to my plan.
I am responsible, all of this is my fault,
I thought us invincible.
Is this God's will after all?
I look across this blood soaked land,
All this blood is on my hands.
God forgive me, please forgive me!
It's all my fault, the blood is on my hands!"


(Grazie a Colin per le correzioni)