5. tammikuuta 2013


A young man he came, from far and away
To the front on a cold winter's day
Just a poor farmer's son, was given a gun
And the hope of glory to come

Now the old winds of war,
they will blow, they will soar
From the east, as the guns start to roar
But they would not surrender
The pride inside their hearts

When we walk throught the fields
Over blood that was spilled
For our fatherland
For the freedom they gave
With their names on the graves
For our fatherland
Come on, raise your hands

Out in the trenches, down on their knees
Wait for the storm to unleash the enemy's name
The fear it remains
It be over in three weeks they say
But they would not surrender
The pride inside their hearts

When we walk throught the fields
Over blood that was spilled
For our fatherland
For the freedom they gave
With their names on the graves
For our fatherland
Come on, raise your hands

When we walk throught the fields
Over blood that was spilled
For our fatherland
For the freedom they gave
With their names on the graves
For our fatherland
Come on, raise your hands

All the mothers who cried over soldiers who died
For our fatherland
For the freedom they gave
With their names on the grave
For our fatherland
Come on, raise your hands

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