Paradise کے بول

Being here among the saints We don't need our armoured friends Holy piece surround us and I close my tired eyes If You can imagine paradise... Nothing else may hurt You and Your head is safe at least You achiver Valhalla-holy piece... Frosty air from fields of snow Hills of ice You used to go-to All of this's behind You and You know-it's time to rest Oldmen's choir's inviting-be our guest... Take Your sword, Your helmet-follow them to gates of calm Where You'll find the harbour-sense of all... But on the Earth they're still spilling the blood Choosing between doom and evil creation Crescent and cross, before shot You must load It is their aim and the future's direction