Stained with sand, burnt with sun
My mercenary!
His memories of war come to throw verses
Of joy...
My mercenary!
His memories of war come to throw verses
Of joy...
This evening of conquest, the lie on his lips
That he betrayed
Stained with sand, burnt with sun
My mercenary!
Without family, without homeland, without illusion nor dream
Only our prayers
Leaving silently, without even a last verse
Towards the light
Stained with sand, burnt with sun
My mercenary! (X4)
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