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
Oil Oil Oil Oil
Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack!
Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh 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 falls to his knees
Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a 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 Ghastly 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