Lyrics Lumps of Rotting Clay - Panzerchrist

Lumps of Rotting Clay

NO Man’s Land is an eerie sight
At early dawn in the pale gray light
Never a house and never a hedge
In No Man s Land from edge to edge
And never a living soul walks there
To taste the fresh of the morning air;
Only some lumps of rotting clay
That were friends or foemen yesterday
What are the bounds of No Man s Land?
You can see them clearly on either hand
A mound of rag-bags gray in the sun
Or a furrow of brown where the earthworks run
From the eastern hills
Christ — Thy name is Panzer!