Žodžiai dainai: Tragedy. Call To Arms.

From hands that beat us senseless come offerings of apparent help

From mouths that told judges lies come pleas of disarmament

As we lay wounded in growing numbers with explosive fury

They fly the white flag at half mast
Calling for, the laying down of arms
Calling for a truce, they must be..
They must be losing it to think we'll just pick up our bruised bodies and gather at their feet

No truce, no mercy, no surrender, no rest, no more, this is war

the midnight hour near's and we prepare for attack

no truce,no mercy,no surrender,no rest,no more,this is war