Woorden: Bruce Dickinson. Balls To Picasso. Hell No.

There's a secret that we all share
In the darkest hours of the night
You can swear on the bible...
Cut the thoat of your rival
I've been taking my life in my hand
And I'm making new plants yeah...
Now I'm starting my life on my own
In the virgin unknown...

Hell...Hell no...
Oh were do we belong?
In this place,where we fight,
Oh were do we belong?

There's a place in the misty air
Not a million miles from here
You can make it your own place
You can change your own face
I've been taking my life in my hand
And I'm making new plants yeah...
Now I'm starting my life on my own
In the virgin unknown...

Hell...Hell no...
Oh were do we belong?
In this place,where we fight,
Oh were do we belong?
Sceaming Hell...Hell no...
Oh were do we belong?
In this place,where we fight,
Oh were do we belong?
In this place,where we fight,
Oh were do we belong?

If you can't really say
What you don't really know
Then you don't really know
What you can't really say
Sceaming out Hell no
Shouting out Hell no
On his knees shouting Hell no
Defiant as Hell no
On the street singing Hell no
On his knees Hell no
Still shouting out Hell no
Sceaming Hell no