That there is a blood it is memory,
It's memory of our fights
That there is a bullet, it cold metal,
It flies on wings of fate
The Remorse is a way,
It's to conduct us
The Remorse it a fear,
It will depress us
Rusty crosses on hills,
It is graves, of ours the soldier
Their pain in an eternal hell,
It we should understand of remorse
The Remorse is a way,
It's to conduct us
The Remorse it a fear,
It will depress us
What truth, dead men hide?
It is the Bloody truth about the Death
The Soldier's soul is awakened,
And it waits for repentance