The court has come. The court of the Nations and into the
Courtroom will come the martyrs of ...?... and the sphynx. From
The ditch of ...?... the dead will rise, they will arise from the
Graves, they will arise from flames bringing with them the act of
Smoke and the deathly odour of scorched mask of death. And the
Children they too will come, stern and merciless. The butchers
Had no pity on them. They are the victims, judge the
Butcher. Today the cheer of the child is the judge, the grief of
The mother is the prosecutor
You were what you were
Clean cut, unbecoming
Recreation for the masses
You always mistook fists for flowers
Welcome welcome soldier smiling
Funeral march for agony's last edge
6 Million screaming souls
Maybe misery - maybe nothing at all
Lives that wouldn't have changed a thing
Never counted - never mattered - never be
Arbeit macht frei
Transports of invalids
Hartheim Castle breathes us in
In block 5 we worship malaria
Lagerstrasse, poplar trees
Beauty lost, dignity gone
Rascher surveys us butcher bacteria
Welcome welcome soldier smiling
Soon infected, nails broken, hunger's a word
6 Million screaming souls
Maybe misery - maybe nothing at all
Lives that wouldn't have changed a thing
Never counted - never mattered - never be
Drink it away, every tear is false
Churchill no different
Wished the workers bled to a machine
Writer(s): Nicholas Allen Jones, Sean Anthony Moore, James Dean Bradfield
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