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Stench of Guts

from Into the Meat Grinder by Creeping Flesh

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lyrics

Mortal dread masked by bravery
The faceless stand before us
Broken bones to be rattled and thrown
The herd of steel breaks through

Into the fray
Addiction to bloodshed
Rip out their living guts

Third army men
We will not falter
We will never fail

Fresh made corpses crack beneath the treads
Juices of the dead

Armoured warfare, machinery of death
Grease the wheels with blood

Tons of armor, Sherman tanks
Victory lies at hand
Heading home, through Berlin
In the heart of the German fatherland

Tracks drenched in blood
Forwards we surge
The stench of guts
Announce our scourge

Men are at march
Always onwards
Never holding ground

Rout our foes
German salient
Close up on the Rhine

Third army men
Kill every single Kraut

Tracks drenched in blood
Forwards we surge
The stench of guts
Announce our scourge

A feast of their flesh
The ravens we serve
In the wastelands of slaughter
Pray we hold our nerve

A shallow grave
Defiled and deprived
Display of bones
Eaten barely alive

Patton’s stalwart men
Breach the German borders
Cowards left behind
Only brave obey orders

Way back home, on native soil
The weak didn’t heed the call
Real men, wrought by war
The third army stands tall

credits

from Into the Meat Grinder, released September 25, 2019

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Creeping Flesh Göteborg, Sweden

Formed in 2013, in Gothenburg.

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