(Hunt or be hunted)



The days are hot

and the dead lie unburied on the field

So the wind brings the smell of blood;

- so heavy and sweet



They're back again

- we came so near and yet so far

They're all around

and if they come any closer...

We're done



Keep My Grave Open, open wide

Keep My Grave Open, I'm longing to die

- Cool and peaceful, and far from the battlefields

...and opened just for me



The moon shuts her eyes

and great black clouds cover the sky

Rain bathes the ground

while we live in darkness like the blind...