Lyrics
few hundred years in blood drenched
spine is broken
then bloodshed with the bayonet
Coming home with only one hand, few hundred years in blood drenched For, dulce et decorum est
machinegun rips us apart
The wounded crying, students and children we are
It s an honour to be one of the emperors chosen, the wounded crying For, the wounded crying
Students and children we are, spine is broken
It s an honour to be one of the emperors chosen, pro patria mori, dulce et decorum est
Fighting to the final breath, marching off to war
gas attack we are the cannon fodder
Your legs are splattered, dulce et decorum est
Crippled for god emperor and fatherland, the wounded crying
then bloodshed with the bayonet
dulce et decorum est
Few hundred years in blood drenched, few hundred years in blood drenched And, few hundred years in blood drenched
Then bloodshed with the bayonet, spine is broken
the wounded crying
industrialized
students and children we are
It s an honour to be one of the emperors chosen, spine is broken
The signal out of the trench, students and children we are, machinegun rips us apart
Whole generation in the front line dying, industrialized
It s an honour to be one of the emperors chosen, machinegun rips us apart, spine is broken
Pro patria mori, fighting to the final breath
It s an honour to be one of the emperors chosen, gas attack we are the cannon fodder And, the wounded crying
Dulce et decorum est, whole generation in the front line dying
industrialized