Winter in trenches
Becomes unbearable
Cold claws of death
Entwined my heart
Like snow-white marble
Our bodies are frozen
Dead fingers squeeze rifles and knifes

My dead comrade
Lies a few hundred yards from me
Snow covered his new uniform
And his blood becomes white too

Soldiers of my regiment
Drop their weapon and go out of the trenches
Their faltering few steps
To white rest and enemies
On the noman's land
They hugged and singed
And yet with neither rage no hate
Cause its Christmas eve
But I'm obliged to kill

I take the bayonet
And run across the field
Young German reaches out to me
I hit him in the throat

Again again and again
Because there is no fucking Christmas truce