i was born in 1920, son of a poor ploughman
my father taught me his dignity, my mother took care of
until that day, until the day they took me away to
fight their bl**dy war, to fight their f*cking war.
far from home – on machines covered with their blood
close to death – with fear and pain as comrades
i breath powder in the air
i see my friend…as they die.
and every day i thank to god
for another day that i can see
the smell of death, the smell of hate
rivers of blood, pain consacrated
another day, another death
i see, i live, i kill, i breath…
the tanks of doom, out of the dark
my hands in blood, my soul is marked
i have to kill without a shame
so far from god…diablo was my name.
i‘ve no flower on my tomb
no one comes to see my stone
lost in a endless field of blood
warmed by the waves
water, mighty waves, no flowers on my tomb, under the
ocean i sleep, under the ocean
water be my bride, i’m so cold inside, under the ocean
under the ocean
…and i’ll try to erase the pain from this world once
and my spirit ‘s so strong, it won’t fade away
thy kingdom come…forever.