Stench of Guts

Mortal dread masked by bravery The faceless stand before us Broken bones to be rattled and thrown The herd of steel breaks through Into the fray Addiction to bloodshed Rip out their living guts Third army men We will not falter We will never fail Fresh made corpses crack beneath the treads Juices of the dead Armoured warfare, machinery of death Grease the wheels with blood Tons of armor, Sherman tanks Victory lies at hand Heading home, through Berlin In the heart of the German fatherland Tracks drenched in blood Forwards we surge The stench of guts Announce our scourge Men are at march Always onwards Never holding ground Rout our foes German salient Close up on the Rhine Third army men Kill every single Kraut Tracks drenched in blood Forwards we surge The stench of guts Announce our scourge A feast of their flesh The ravens we serve In the wastelands of slaughter Pray we hold our nerve A shallow grave Defiled and deprived Display of bones Eaten barely alive Patton's stalwart men Breach the German borders Cowards left behind Only brave obey orders Way back home, on native soil The weak didn't heed the call Real men, wrought by war The Third Army stands tall --- Stench of Guts - Creeping Flesh