Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds, burning eyes World War II Under british command In egyptian no-man's land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet ! Push forth the mark vi light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, Bleachel bones crumble Flesh cannon fodder brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh And blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing Fall to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance shadows cast a spell And the black oil erupting Like fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana A face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Gastly winds death's stare No man's war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle but not the war