Listen to my story that I'm about to tell. It doesn't have much glory, it's about a man who fell. About an aryan brother who had many more things to see. Why couldn't it have been another, I would have rather it had been me.

He fought the good fight for his nation. He fought the good fight to his creation. He fought the good fight for white salvation. He fought the good fight for his nation.

He had many more things to see, I would have rather it had been me. But now his spirit is forever free, still I'd rather it had been me.

He walked out of his doorway, without knowing he'd never return. To have a white night was his only concern. But little did he know that his time was running out. 'Cos on that final journey home he hear the enemy shout.

He was killed for his racial pride. You try to tell me it was justified. And because you take the enemy's side. You're just gonna let it slide. Tell me what is wrong with this country we live in. After all the white blood that has been given. Justice is still a far cry away. With how much more blood do we have to pay?

An act of cowardice takes it place on another warrior of our race. We lost our comrade on that fateful night but deep in our hearts we'll carry on his fight.

Shots were fired, a cry was heard, on that endless night. But although he was struck he fought with all of his might. And in that room, in that bed, where that warrior lay. The fire's still burning in his eyes, as you can hear him say.

I fought the good fight for my nation. For my people and my right to my creation. I sought the light of white salvation. I fought the good fight for my nation.

He had many more things to see, I would have rather it had been me. But now his spirit is forever free, still I'd rather it had been me.
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