1943 - Reaper

Out in the field we are fallen

Frozen to death in the cold

Undeniable, we were born and so Asking each other for nothing

Paying a horrible price

So dispensable is our sacrifice

Winter, the coming after ages

That marksmen screams and rages

The fire, the fortune, the victory has come

Watching the heavens blazing

Catching the frost on the ground (?)

Eat away ?, hear the waiting sound

Most are drumming and shaking

Wish they would shut and explore

We have come to bear this heavy load (?)

Winter, the coming after ages

That marksmen screams and rages

The fire, the fortune, the victory has come

We walk this land of rock until the end of time

The future once for vultures, now for deafening crowd

The time and time again, the heart, my never will?

Till out of history the sensible must feel

Winter, the coming after ages

That marksmen screams and rages

The fire, the fortune, the victory of anger

And dying feast of nothing

And one by one we’re passing

The glory of hope is not still gone