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  • Nocturnal light from deadly suns
    Illuminates my fate
    Concussions all around me
    In my trench I shake and wait
    Nausea overwhelms me
    The dead fill every space
    They wait for resurrections
    Bullets ripping past my face
    I see the wounded falling
    Grimaces they wore
    Soldiers and civilians
    They died the rich and poor
    All are consumed by fire
    Bodies turned to rags
    Mothers only sons
    Returned to them in bags
    The final plan unfurled
    No relief till all has died
    The extinction of the world
    In a blast of cyanide
    Unsparing shrapnel tears through flesh
    Merciless round by round
    Like seeds the bodies scattered
    Too dense to see the ground
    The deafening siege of fire power
    Roaring for days on end
    No one's going home now
    And there's not much left to send
    All are consumed by fire
    Bodies turned to rags
    Mothers only sons
    Returned to them in bags
    The deafening siege of fire power
    Roaring for days on end
    No one's going home now
    There's not much left to send
    The final plan unfurled
    No relief till all has died
    The extinction of the world
    In a blast of cyanide.
  • Nocturnal light from deadly suns
    Illuminates my fate
    Concussions all around me
    In my trench I shake and wait
    Nausea overwhelms me
    The dead fill every space
    They wait for resurrections
    Bullets ripping past my face
    I see the wounded falling
    Grimaces they wore
    Soldiers and civilians
    They died the rich and poor
    All are consumed by fire
    Bodies turned to rags
    Mothers only sons
    Returned to them in bags
    The final plan unfurled
    No relief till all has died
    The extinction of the world
    In a blast of cyanide
    Unsparing shrapnel tears through flesh
    Merciless round by round
    Like seeds the bodies scattered
    Too dense to see the ground
    The deafening siege of fire power
    Roaring for days on end
    No one's going home now
    And there's not much left to send
    All are consumed by fire
    Bodies turned to rags
    Mothers only sons
    Returned to them in bags
    The deafening siege of fire power
    Roaring for days on end
    No one's going home now
    There's not much left to send
    The final plan unfurled
    No relief till all has died
    The extinction of the world
    In a blast of cyanide.