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The Smell of Death
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300
300 hundred warriors raised in a life of pain
Each one a specimen with fighting in his veins
Each one was born shield and dagger in his hand
To defend his motherland he's here to take a stand
One million strong
Could not break through their front lines
A pallid smoke hangs low as piles of bodies burn
You set the tone of war, but soon a tide will turn
These wicked ocean winds sent sailors to their death
These fighting warriors will fight till their last breath
One millions sailors
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Who sold their souls for gold
If you can't beat the undertow
And outswim the waves
Wake up tomorrow
And dig their graves
They sent their best men first
Their best men quickly died
But by a bastard son, their secret had been spilled
300 hundred warriors and all of them were killed
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