Orne Frontline Dreams
Forward we march in the piercing rain,
together we move as one.
No matter how hard to deliver the pain,
we claim the land with Blood and Iron
Row after row we rise and travel through the Fire,
row after row we will fall...
Lives been taken by the mortar flames,
the odour of slow decay.
Skulls and mud, people have no names,
Satanic mills claw white bones.
I watch in awe as the frontline dies,
uplifted by this fiery blow.
Late at nigh the lone-one cries,
regains her strength through twisted sorrow
Running through the fields forever,
that's all I can do.
Remembering the happy days,
just sitting singing songs.
Laying in my bed I wonder,
who am I anyway?
Going back in dreams will help me
to see the light of day... again.