Make his fight on the hills in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun on [bad word] through the endless gray
On they fight for their right, yes, but who's to say?

For a hill, men would kill, why? They do not know [bad word]  wounds test their pride
Men of five, still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain and 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 he 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 they see what will be blinded eyes to see