The End of The Matter

The Eagles of the Iron Crooked Cross
Would take to the skies
One last time
In the precious scientific creations
Of their parent evil state
They'd rise up above the clouds
Faster than they could be caught
Proud sons of the Fatherland
They'd drop their bombs
To kill
Whoever was beneath
Continuing a holocaust
If only they were allowed

NIGHT OWLS

Knights of the Black Cross
Riding their owls
Fall from the darkness
Ripping open the veil
Of night
They wait to prey
Upon the fleet of ships
Below them
Weary from the journey
Humming loudly
As they wait
To drop their death
Above the land
Of the Iron Cross
Who has knights
Who will fight
Until the land burns
Along with the people
It has murdered