letra de butte des morts - attalla
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dusk falls as the canoes approach the shore
tribesmen line the bank with torches lit
sun sinks on the hill of the dead, a crimson glow
intentions are cloaked, they will soon know
silence breaks, lead is raining down
bodies lay across the blood soaked ground
deadly force, lives have been cut short
b-tte des morts: the hill of the dead
they run in fear for their lives, to the woods
path lit by the flames of betrayal
met by their rival tribе, no escape, certain dеath
return to the earth and curse this land
blackest soil, won’t bear life again
b-tte des morts: the hill of the dead
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