Falling leaves like a broken dream
dying soldier and a fading scheme
And a dustcloud tears on her eyes
In a treetop the Northwind sighs

On a march through the fields
Hearing [bad word] banners raised
The soiled is soaked with blood
Despair death embrace

Falling rain is our last gift from heaven
But we follow the path to [bad word] The dust cloaks the forest
spectre leads our path
Our eyes are burning with hate
Our hearts are scoarched by wrath

On a march through the [bad word] lost in the night
Neither hoping nor fearing
Of the hideous fight

Falling leaves in a broken night
We drown in sorrows
And fear the embers bite
Hear the sound of Metal
The noise of guns
The roaring of thunder
And the bursting of bombs

On a march through the fields
Hearing [bad word] banners raised
The soil is soaked with blood
Dispair death embrace

On a March through the [bad word] lost in the night
Neither hoping nor fearing
Of the hideous fight
Of the hideous fight
Of the hideous fight