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March of Warrior

My Fallen Garden

The soldiers walk to war
We give your souls in batlefieeld
To the freedon of the motherland
But they knows that in your away (many blood)
Will have many blood and bodyes
By the ground

With the promise of wash
The honor of your folk with the blood of the enemies
In reverence of metal

In his pulsete heart the feeling
And the wish of come back to the breast
Of your motherland an that one who love
Privilege of litle cause the godes of war
Present with just the true heros of war.