Aryan March

Pancer's fire is burning with the strength of our pride
Bullets raining in the battlefield of the final days in slavery
Now the horison is closer to our eyes, to our minds and our hope to win
The war now is getting black and the sun will never rise (for them)

The powers now are less to build a serious attack for victory
Our spirits now are stronger than the Death, we will fight to their end
The enemy is hidden in the fog of weapons' fire, of bloody death
Our fight is to be alive with the spirit of Aryan Ancient Pride