Luftwaffe Fin De Ciecle
We stand at the end. From the end we look back.
This war is all wars. This sin is all sins.
And the lowest within humanity is humanity's final prize
The hands that formed this world Are the hands of the
dead
The hands that formed this nightmare Are the hands of the
dead
The will that moves this world Is a semblance of a shade
Every dream and all desire Is a debt to be paid
The lives that live within Assume the roles of the dead
So nothing can be done And nothing to be said
All goodness that remains Is as a vapour caught on wind
Once forming now fading We look back upon the end
All life is but the vermin That feeds on death's decay
The dead inherit the living And not the other way
All life is but the vermin That feeds on death's decay
The dead inherit the living And death shall have her say
