Kunstler:)
Nume: Kunstler:)
Varsta: 25
Localitate: Bucuresti
Membru din: acum 14 ani si 291 zile
Nota medie: 9.99069

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Kunstler:)
Utilizator: Kunstler:) acum 14 ani si 192 zile

super:)

super:)

Vezi desenul
Kunstler:)
Utilizator: Kunstler:) acum 14 ani si 192 zile

N---nu stiu ce sa zic:))

Vezi desenul
Kunstler:)
Utilizator: Kunstler:) acum 14 ani si 192 zile

In a foreign field he lay
lonely soldier unknown grave
on his dying words he prays
tell the world of Paschendale

Relive all that he's been through
last communion of his soul
rust your bullets with his tears
let me tell you 'bout his years

Laying low in a blood filled trench
killing time 'til my very own death
on my face I can feel the falling rain
never see my friends again
in the smoke in the mud and lead
the smell of fear and the feeling of dread
soon be time to go over the wall
rapid fire and the end of us all

Whistles, shouts and more gun-fire
lifeless bodies hang on barbed wire
battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb
be reunited with my dead friends soon
many soldiers eighteen years
drowned in mud, no more tears
surely a war no one can win
killing time about to begin

Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again

The bodies of ours and our foes
the sea of death it overflows
in no-man's land God only knows
into jaws of death we go...

Crucified as if on a cross
allied troops, they mourn their loss
German war propaganda machine
such before has never been seen
swear I heard the angels cry
pray to God no more may die
so that people know the truth
tell the tale of Paschendale

Cruelty has a human heart
every man does play his part
terror of the men we kill
the human heart is hungry still

I stand my ground for the very last time
gun is ready as I stand in line
nervous wait for the whistle to blow
rush of blood and over we go...

Blood is falling like the rain
its crimson cloak unveils again
the sound of guns can't hide their shame
and so we die in Paschendale

Dodging shrapnel and barbed wire
running straight at canon fire
running blind as I hold my breath
say a prayer symphony of death
as we charge the enemy lines
a burst of fire and we go down
I choke I cry but no one hears
feel the blood go down my throat

Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again
Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again

See my spirit on the wind
across the lines beyond the hill
friend and foe will meet again
those who died at Paschendale

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Kunstler:)
Utilizator: Kunstler:) acum 14 ani si 193 zile

Like a mirage riding on the desert sand
Like a vision floating with the desert winds
Know the secret of the ancient desert lands
Your are the keeper of the mystery in your hands


Nomad, rider of the ancient east
Nomad, rider that men know the least
Nomad, where you come from no one knows
Nomad, where you go to no one tells

Undercover of the veil of your disguise
The men that fear you are the ones that you despise
No one's certain what you future will behold
You're a legend you own story will be told



Nomad, rider of the ancient east
Nomad, rider that men know the least
Nomad, where you come from no one knows
Nomad, where you go to no one tells

No one dares to even look or glance your way
Your reputation goes before you they all say
Like a spirit that can disappear at will
Many claim of things but no one's seen you kill



Nomad, you're the rider so mysterious
Nomad, you're the spirit that men fear in us
Nomad, you're the rider of the desert sands
No man's ever understood your genius


Those who see you in horizon desert sun
Those who fear your reputation hide or run
You send before you a mystique that's all your own
Your silhouette is like a statue carved in stone



Nomad, you're the rider so mysterious
Nomad, you're the spirit that men fear in us
Nomad, you're the rider of the desert sands
No man ever understood your genius

Legend has it that you speak an ancient tongue
But no one's spoke to you and lived to tell the tale
Some may say that you have killed a hundred men
Others say that you have died and live again



Nomad, you're the rider so mysterious
Nomad, you're the spirit that men fear in us
Nomad, you're the rider of the desert sands
No man ever understood your genius

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