The Curse Of The Great — Cryptopsy

Das ist der fluch der m?chtigen

Let us settle with swords The affairs of men: Violence is the answer: «Sis im blut»... Eisblut!

In this soiled world We see aspects of damnation On the faces of the killed Instead of gratitude

This psychology may seem A bit baroque at first But what a boon it be When the demons come

With time and telling, memory dulls Of rotting boys with empty skulls: All sons of ares, sons of mars Whose flesh be worms, whose souls be stars

Myriads of combat corpses The eggshell skeletons of men Debris over which weep Their stricken families: Parents, wives and children Their heroic children Their heroic sufferings Do strengthen hearts And moisten eyes