Sepultura

To the wall-- claims the soldier
My last steps march to the death
Last wills! Hell! This is idiotism
Fuck off to me, fuck off to all of you
To the death-- I raise my head
My last moments--it's my existing
countdown
A cry for mercy trapped in my throat
But even in hell there's a place for
cowards
The burning sun over my head
The troop is comin'- compassion I
dismiss
Sentence of death pounding on my
back
There's no hiding when you're
thrown
against the wall
To paradise, the priest is saying . . .
blessing my death
He's standing in front of me . . .
his merciful sight sickens me
He says that soon I'll have my
judgement . . .
I'll kneel down in front of the Lord
And he asks me to regret my sins. . .
but it's too late