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Battlefield, 1942

Conquering the territory, red

German military force

Against russian frost

Into this mountains, lost

Winter blood, covering my eyes

Night without dark, bullets from the sky

Bomb flashings high, death your light

Primitive roots, starting to rise

Need to kill, the brain will

To live for the dead

The primordial reason to kill

The only sense I feel

Primordial need for flesh

Don't care of the rest

If we loose, if we win

Disturbed mind, out of control

A cannibal I become