Tekster: Bolt Thrower. Mercenary. No Guts, No Glory.

All senses under attack
Oblivion, penultimate
Anticipation fills your soul
At the limit beyond control

The last advance, one final chance
It now shall be no guts, no glory

Retaliation, sequentially inclined
No guts, no glory, you decide

The last advance, one final chance
It now shall be no guts, no glory

Swallow no pride, strength from inside
Still driving on, second to none

The last advance, one final chance
It now shall be no guts, no glory

The last advance, one final chance
It now shall be no guts, no glory