Woorden: Bruce Dickinson. Balls To Picasso. Gods Of War.

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh

When I was younger I thought, I believed
That to kill or be killed was a thing to be proud of
Victim of change, prisoner of hope, hanged by the neck
On the end of a rope, I don't know, I don't care

Oh, one of the damned
Oh, part of the plan

Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more
Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more

Now taking both sides at a time, on the front line
You can join in the fear share, in the bloodshed
Investing your money in guns, the infinite fun
Of some warlord you saved from his rusty grave

Oh, I duck my own way
Oh, I'm not tired of your plan, oh

Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more
Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more

Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more
Cry oh oh oh the Gods of war
They howl and cry for more

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh