They choose the path where no-one goes.
They hold no quarter.
Walking
side by side with death, The devil mocks their every step
The
snow drives back the foot that's slow, The dogs of doom are howling more
They
carry news that must get through, To build a dream for me and you
They choose the path where no-one goes.
They
hold no quarter. They ask no quarter.
The
pain, the pain without quarter.
They
ask no quarter.
The
dogs of doom are howling more!
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |