Bleeding Dirt 歌词

Bleeding Dirt Immersed in weakness With dimming gaze Faced with the fate I feel myself the man, who lost the truth The unbearable pain Pierces my body, Runs-through my soul, Gets me back to the war. No hope to catch life on the flap, In torments my friends go away, Doomed not to find the last rest, Rage - is a machine of death. Violently plunged into fight, Destroying oppisite sides, Gripping in teeth gun and blade We're kneading the cold bleeding Dirt. Bleeding dirt. Dirt. Bleed ing dirt. Nerves become blunt. Flooded with wine, Cauterized with mad lead The deadful though are torturing jaded mind. No escape from my life, Life - no cure for wounds, The unbearable pain Gets me back to the war. Thousands of the dead are ignored. Money arises in death. For true reason of unfair game, For the fault they could not take the blame. Thrown in the dark of the streets The wretches with broken fate, Awards are the means to shut up, They just want to forget bleeding Dirt. Bleeding dirt. Dirt. Bleeding dirt.