الكلمات
(Intro) [short instrumental]
Verse 1:
Underneath the smoking skies, where death and war conspire,
In tents stained with agony, lit by flickering fire.
Gritty hands with blood-soaked gloves, their touch both firm and light,
Sewing flesh and shattered bone, in the dead of night.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
Chorus:
In the field hospital, where screams pierce the air,
Limbs are lost, dreams are crushed, and lives hang in despair.
With every torn sinew, every ragged breath,
We fight against the darkness, we bargain with death.
Verse 2:
Scalpels cut through fevered flesh, veins pumping with fear,
Whispers of the dying mix with prayers they hold dear.
Sisters in their crimson robes, faces etched with pain,
Pull the living from the brink, in this charnel domain.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
(Solo).
Chorus:
In the field hospital, where screams pierce the air,
Limbs are lost, dreams are crushed, and lives hang in despair.
With every torn sinew, every ragged breath,
We fight against the darkness, we bargain with death.
Verse 3:
Viscera and gore, the currency of war,
Every heartbeat, a victory, in this brutal chore.
Eyes that stare through trauma, hands that never rest,
In the field hospital, we put our skills to the test.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
Verse 4:
In the stench of decay, where hope is but a fever dream,
Medics carve a path through hell, triage choices stark and mean.
From the shattered remnants, they piece together lives,
In the grim reality, where only the strongest survives.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
Chorus:
In the field hospital, where screams pierce the air,
Limbs are lost, dreams are crushed, and lives hang in despair.
With every torn sinew, every ragged breath,
We fight against the darkness, we bargain with death.
(Solo).
Outro:
In this theater of suffering, where the Emperor’s light fades,
We forge our own miracles, with blood and razor blades.
For every soul we salvage, from the jaws of fate,
In the field hospital, we challenge our own fate.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
{End].
Chorus:
In the field hospital, where screams pierce the air,
Limbs are lost, dreams are crushed, and lives hang in despair.
With every torn sinew, every ragged breath,
We fight against the darkness, we bargain with death.
(Solo).
Outro:
In this theater of suffering, where the Emperor’s light fades,
We forge our own miracles, with blood and razor blades.
For every soul we salvage, from the jaws of fate,
In the field hospital, we challenge our own fate.
(We are the Commissariat). [choir].
{End].
