Our fist are totally
without fear
Our fist are totally
without terror
And our heart is made of steel
with blood becoming venom
Proud I growl, and proud I feel
I hear those screams twisted
with overthrown sound
Our fist ponch the life
and winds
Our fist are slicing
cuts with their nails
And our heart is made
of steel, with blood
becoming venom
No candels, no images, we're the squadron
and weapons of death metal
deep, so deep in our soul
The play we rode and ride, so black
we're people with war instruments
to cult death metal
as old ones
Loyalty to our music the way of life
anthem to hate, anthem to violence
the earth shakes, down to the care
'coz the growls we crank
