| Over the edge of the world, covered in frozen blood,
|
| lost my best friend to snow, ready to fall apart
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| Craving to rule them all, father devoured his heir,
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| Great Army marches far, destined for great despair
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| Hell has frozen over
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| and it’s NOW!
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| We have marched for many miles, we shall march for many more
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| in the frozen mud of Russia I am bound to be un-born
|
| Swiftly tagged the juice of nation, I was promised easy bread,
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| father handed one-way journey to the godforsaken land
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| Hear the thump of marching armies,
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| horses neigh and cannons moan
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| The soundtrack to final battle,
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| death is reaching for my throat
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| Just one more step
|
| on the field of broken wishes
|
| Borodino!
|
| The beginning of the end
|
| Lost!
|
| In the 1812!
|
| Gone!
|
| It’s the 1812!
|
| Frenchmen strike with reckless fury,
|
| Russian forces tear apart
|
| On the field of broken wishes
|
| soil is soaking wet with blood
|
| Another page
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| in the book of failed ambitions
|
| Borodino!
|
| Marks beginning of the end!
|
| Lost!
|
| In the 1812!
|
| Gone!
|
| It’s the 1812! |