The drops of rust raining down over the age of steel
Layers of dust burying the faded and motionless reels
A distorted view filled with the victims of the modern times
These endless roads, all to nowhere, only smoking ruins in sight
These men of stained soils, still roaming slowly ahead
In the crossroad of fear, dwelling in the heart of the brave
Seeking the truth from a boiling heart of the north
And feel the warm, feel the warm blood against the freezing cold
“There's no justice beyond the flash from a spear
The soil ahead is the grave, at the edge of an old northâ€