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Jun. 5th, 2007|09:03 am |
Take no prisoners, Care no losses. At stormfront, at stormfront! Our glory, it calls us!
As waves our tides will clash and cling. For triumph, for triumph! They'll die from my sting!
Resistance is futile, Blood flows to the mud Press on, press on! And stand with us God!
Throng upon throng A mass of hatred. Mercy, mercy! And we fall faded. |
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