Bruce Dickinson. Killing Floor. Zeneszám

[Bruce Dickinson / Adrian Smith]

So this is dreamtime, and all is quiet
So this is dreamtime, and all is night
You've never been held by the hand of God
Who's rocking the cradle, if he is not?

He turned the oil into his blood
Panzer divisions burning in the mud
The stain of freedom, he's washed it out
Who's rocking the cradle, I have no doubt

Sleeping eyes awake
To see his hooded gaze
Whispers on the wind
The darker side of ecstasy

Satan has left his killing floor

Satan has left his killing floor

Satan, his fires burn no more

Satan has left his killing floor
So now it's dreamtime for you tonight
So now it's dreamtime, and all is quiet
You've never been held by the hand of god
Who's rocking your cradle, if he is not?

Sleeping eyes awake
To see his hooded gaze
Whispers on the wind
The never-ending breath goodbye

Satan has left his killing floor

Satan has left his killing floor

Satan, his fires burn no more

Satan is coming back for more
Satan has left his killing floor

Satan has left his killing floor