اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Cut out their tongues, remove their sons and daughters
For they do not know their ways through pain
In times of wealth, they still depend on the other
Spiritless and blind they shall forever remain
Unseen terror
From the past
Strike now to preserve the ancient way
Rise up to inhale the God of gods
If not now, who shall fight and hold fortress?
Wich ones have the right to ever complain again?
Instant torment
With the wind
Crawling nearer
Count me in
