Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun, on [bad word] through the endless grey
On the fight, for they are right, yes, by who's to say?
For a hill men would kill, why? They do not know
Suffered wounds test there their pride
Men of five, still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain that they surely know [bad word] 
For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on
For whom the bell tolls

Take a look to the sky just before you die
It is the last time you will
Blackened roar massive roar fills the [bad word] sky
Shattered goal fills his soul with [bad word] cry
Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery
He hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now the will see what will be, blinded eyes to see [bad word]