This desolate darkened battlefield soaked in my cold black blood
Lies empty, dead and scarred
This desolate broken body of mine bound by pure will
Stands victorious and tall
With the strenght of a thousand and one
Devils I faced the madmans odds
Ready to be devoured
On the razorsharp, traitorous edge of the end with a roar I broke the line
I saw the bastards fall
Cursed I can't break the spell
I stride right through this hell
In league with death and pain
My last drop of blood all I need
Still I'm burning but never fearing
There's no healing in sight but victory is mine
Wounds are all I am made of, conflict is my sould
Rising in terror
So greive me, I'm vibrantly dead
I'm forcing my own will to live
Writer(s): Harry Granroth, Oscar Carlquist
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