Operation Compass was well underway
Scorching sun coarse sand
A horned desert viper slithers through dust
Howling winds, burning eyes
World War II
Under british command
In egyptian no-man's land
A silence of the snakes
Before the battle erupts
Enemy in sight!
Keep low and quiet !
Push forth the mark vi light!
Attack!
Bleak tanks rumble,
Bleachel bones crumble
Flesh cannon fodder brutally slaughtered
Filthy caked crusts of flesh
And blood garnish the banks
The onslaught prevails
The desert of death
As the last man standing
Fall to his knees
Amidst fire and flame
Something whispers his name
There in the distance shadows cast a spell
And the black oil erupting
Like fountain from hell
Like a Fata Morgana
A face appears in the geyser of oil
Red demonic eyes looking down on him
Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well
The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand
Blue lunar wasteland
The fallen soldiers rise to their feet
Gastly winds death's stare
No man's war
The undead soar
Uttering monstrous roars
A pack of death closing
He screams and tries to dig himself in
Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin
He won the battle but not the war
