[Chapter 1] The year is sixteen-eighty-three, the walls are wearing thin, Kara Mustafa’s vast armies, fighting to let the siege begin. The city chokes on powder smoke, the cannons shake the stone, We hold the line, the final stroke, we face this fight alone. St. Stephen's Bell is silent now, our prayer is just a plea, We swallow smoke, the enemy bows, yet still, we must be free. [Chapter 2] Forty days and forty nights, we stood against the flood, Flames are licking, blinding lights, but in us sleeps the blood! But hark! An echo through the wood, a sound that sets us free! [Chapter 3] THE BELLS OF KAHLENBERG! They thunder through the sky! THE WINGED HUSSARS CHARGE! As their fierce standards fly! From Poland's north, across the Rhine, rides Sobieski's might! Breaking the siege on that thin line! Vienna sees the light of night! [Chapter 4] The Sultan’s conquest shattered fast, when cavalry pushed through, They swept the slopes, a storm that passed, the enemy withdrew! A wave of steel, a heavy swing, the Ottoman ranks did break, The sleeping fortress found its spring, no mercy for their sake! The scattered coffee beans lay wide, a trophy of the fight, By God's own will, all Europe cried, salvation filled the night. [Chapter 5] They came when every hope had died, when strength had long run dry. A final stand with nowhere to hide, beneath the stormy sky.
