The Lives of Authors

They're marching on the mountains

They scramble through the pass

People have them offered everytime

But I know we cannot match



This is our future

This is our home



By the blood in my veins

And the soil on my hands

We'll stand our ground

For miles around

This is our line

This is our line



Oskar lost Ofelia

But he was calm and he was brave

And he slaughtered in her name

Untill it took his life away



I'm but a farmers boy, no soldier should I be

But the rest of the men are bearring it and now is my time to leave.

I'm but a sheperds boy no killer could I be

But with this knive in my hand I will fight for our land and I'll die before I'll sleep



We'll stand our ground

For miles around

And our butt will stay in the streets



Stomach(?) in my chest, your pistols pointing west.

Minute man dead us, know they come agrass us,

Rail? Buffelhors together will defend us



I am but a natrix son no murderer I can be

But the day oskar arrived, we ggonna live in the name of alnerique