Das ist der fluch der m?chtigen Let us settle with swords The affairs of men: Violence is the answer: 'Sis im blut>... Eisblut! In this soiled world We see aspects of damnation On the faces of the k**ed Instead of gratitude This psychology may seem A bit baroque at first But what a boon it be When the demons come With time and telling, memory dulls Of rotting boys with empty skulls: All sons of ares, sons of mars Whose flesh be worms, whose souls be stars Myriads of combat corpses The eggshell skeletons of men Debris over which weep Their stricken families: Parents, wives and children Their heroic children Their heroic sufferings Do strengthen hearts And moisten eyes Know ye not (Have ye forgotten?) Your place in the earth? We know (as we've always known) (that) there can be no place For such as ye Upon our blameless, benighted earth The breath of the dead Fills the stagnant breeze: Now, the world is perfect (and) those left behind still weep (And) should the question of terror arise We'll draw our hate down from the skies We live beneath a carca** moon That makes a horror of all days For on this battlefield Even the wicked get worse than they deserve 'But then, it is the curse of the great To have to walk over the corpses.> 'Es war schon immer der fluch der m?chtigen ?ber leichen schreiten zu m?ssen.> With our deeds of carnage We hail bloodshed our immortal king