Glass taints the surface where gods cry and souls decay Shadows hang
Themselves to escape this place they've made Don't worry my children,
This is hell Our souls are faced with damnation Blood soaked gardens
Bound for death, to kill or be killed They will smile in their
Disparity in battle In the fields of sorrow a corpse stands alone
Childrens' mothers pray for their safety and return, knowing that they are dead
Glass taints the surface where gods cry and souls decay Shadows hang
Themselves to escape this place they've made Don't worry my children