Letra de Paschendale, Iron Maiden.


In a foreign field he lay 
Lonely soldier, unknown grave 
On his dying words he prays 
Tell the world of Paschendale 

Relive all that he's been through 
Last communion of his soul 
Rust your bullets with his tears 
Let me tell you 'bout his years 

Laying low in a blood filled trench 
Kill tim 'til my very own death 
On my face I can feel the falling rain 
Never see my friends again 

In the smoke, in the mud and lead 
Smell the fear and the feeling of dread 
Soon be time to go over the wall 
Rapid fire and the end of us all 

Whistles, shouts and more gun fire 
Lifeless bodies hang on barbed wire 
Battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb 
Be reunited with my dead friends soon 

Many soldiers eighteen years 
Drown in mud, no more tears 
Surely a war no-one can win 
Killing time about to begin 

Home, far away 
From the war, a chance to live again 
Home, far away 
But the war, no chance to live again 

The bodies of ours and our foes 
The sea of death it overflows 
In no man's land, God only knows 
Into jaws of death we go 

Crucified as if on a cross 
Allied troops they mourn their loss 
German war propaganda machine 
Such before has never been seen 

Swear I heard the angels cry 
Pray to god no more may die 
So that people know the truth 
Tell the tale of Paschendale 

Cruelty has a human heart 
Every man does play his part 
Terror of the men we kill 
The human heart is hungry still 

I stand my ground for the very last time 
Gun is ready as I stand in line 
Nervous wait for the whistle to blow 
Rush of blood and over we go 

Blood is falling like the rain 
Its crimson cloak unveils again 
The sound of guns can't hide their shame 
And so we die on Paschendale 

Dodging shrapnel and barbed wire 
Running straight at the cannon fire 
Running blind as I hold my breath 
Say a prayer symphony of death 

As we charge the enemy lines 
A burst of fire and we go down 
I choke a cry but no-one hears 
Fell the blood go down my throat 

Home, far away 
From the war, a chance to live again 
Home, far away 
But the war, no chance to live again 

See my spirit on the wind 
Across the lines, beyond the hill 
Friend and foe will meet again 
Those who died at Paschendale

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