Battle Song

The arrows whizz
Swords and spears are sparkling in the air

Pugnacious yells of rage in boundless hate
Black lansquenets are determined to win or die

Beating and stabbing and strangling and crushing
And slitting the throats

Smashing the faces, impaling the bodies,
Dismembering the foe

Beating and stabbing and strangling and crushing
And slitting the throats.

Red coloured landscape, district of war
Covered with mangled corpse in knee-deep pools of blood.

The horns are blown, the black troops mass
To start one more attack and settle their conquest

The crossbows fizz.
Horses are neighing all around

Pugnacious yells of rage in boundless hate
Black lansquenets are determined to win or die
Red coloured landscape, district of war
Covered with mangled corpse in knee-deep pools of blood
The horns are blown, the black troops mass
To start one more attack and settle their conquest

Beating and stabbing and strangling and crushing
And slitting the throats

The weapons clash
Morning stars are swirling in the air

Pugnacious yells of rage in boundless hate
Black lansquenets are determined to win or die
Beating and stabbing and strangling and crushing
And slitting the throats
Smashing the faces, impaling the bodies,
Dismembering the foe

The maces hit the faces.
Harnesses - cold steel - are gleaming red.

Pugnacious yells of rage in boundless hate
Black lansquenets are determined to win or die
Beating and stabbing and strangling and crushing
And slitting the throats
Red coloured landscape - district of war
Covered with mangled corpse in knee-deep pools of blood

The horns are blown, the black troops mass again
Now they know the battle's victory belongs to them