It Was Midnight The Cold Was At Its Height
I Was Walking Through A Lane
The Time When I Passed By A Dane
He Was The First Person To Meet Me That Night
He Was Dressed Like Cops As If He Was Ready To Fight
Those Were The Days Of The War
He Was Alone And Was Rushing Fiercely Towards His Car
Though The War Place Was Not Too Far
By The Time He Was Shooted By A Gun
And He Wasnt Left To See The Rising Sun
The Time He Was Put On The Flame
Yeah His Hands Moved To Claim
But It Was Too Late Every Year On The Same Date
I Pay My Visit To The Same Place
To See Me One More Timeas Apart Of The Peoples Race
The Place For Me Is A Wreath
Where I Suffered My Incomplete Death