from the back streets from the gutter hear the sound of guns stutter from dark days from decline marching men stand in line soon to die and be betrayed soon to die in shallow graves till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned follow your nose and smell the profits of war in the teeth of life you die in the jaws of death you live believers of the new past were shown his true face the once proud brownshirt now stained by engineers of blood faith and race till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned till the living flesh is burned until the living flesh is burned