Текст песни Massacre - Bathory

Massacre

Down the vast hills in morning mist cold\nInto the peaceful deep valley below.\nTwothousand stallions foaming with hate\nCarrying their masters towards their fate\nInto the battle they ride\nTwothousand men too young to die.\nMassacre…\nComing from each side prepared for attack\nCovered in dustclouds now there is no turning back\nOnce so peaceful valley echoes with cries\nCascades of blood and brains as the midday sun rise\nUnder a bloodred sky\nNone will live to face the night\nMassacre…\nAmidst the scattered limbs dead bodies finally comes to peace\nWhile the stench of blood grows strong in the mild midday breeze\nCircling the sky the vultures wait to play their part\nTo descend of wings of death and feast from human hearts\nThe battle is lost still someone always wins\nAnd now they descend on death’s black wings\nMassacre…\n(Massacre…)