Bölzer - Steppes

I Haunt The White Plains Of Hell
And They Speak Not Of Truce
What Becomes Of The World
When My Death Is The Truth?
Justifying Your Orders
As If Life Was A Lie
To Be Blessed With Defeat
Medals For Which One Would Die

Well I Must Accept
What Have I Left, Of Hope Bereft?
The Pain
Of My Frozen Soul So Far From Home
Fuck It's Cold
This War Of Wills Brought Nought But Ills
Forgotten
On The Steppes Of War, Forevermore

Oh How I Desire To Hold You
My Hands Know But Steel
And As Blood Turns To Rust
Means This Nightmare Is Real
I'd Been Clasping Your Picture
When Darkness It Came
Erasing Your Face, From My Mind Fled Your Name

Here I Lie Again
Broken By Cold Hard Hand Of Fate
My Warm Fluid Innocence Invades The Ice
With Unavailing Fervour
Is My Spirit By Flesh Betrayed
And In The Wake Of Ruin
Beckoned The Temple To Abscond
But What Calibre Of Man Besieged
Would Submit To Such Ungodly Defeat?
Nay, Lest The Skies In Hunger Descend
Bow Shall I Not!

Raging Against The Great Beast
Rend The World In Twain
Divine Total Peace

Screaming Ghosts Of My Past
Bless Your Shattered Face
With The Tears I Shed

Anointing The Blades Of Revenge
With The Life I Piss
In The Face Of Death