The lands alive with the fires from hell
The wreckage of man is all you can smell
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
There's not an ounce of strength left inside

In the dead of night they stalk their prey

One way or another you're going to pay
You can't see it, but it's upon their breath
Those metal monsters with the kiss of death

How many times must one man fall
Nobody listening and then there's nothing at all
You were said to have been brave
But look what it go you, not even a grave

Susan Rae Nott
Copyright 2000 Susan Nott