The scent of Thyme carried on the wind
Stings my face into remembering
Cruel nature has won again
Cruel nature has won again

On Battleship Hill’s caved in trenches
A hateful feeling still lingers
Even now, eighty years later
Cruel nature
Cruel, cruel nature

The land returns to how it has always been
Thyme carried on the wind
Jagged mountains, jutting out
Cracked like teeth in a rotten mouth
On Battleship Hill I hear the wind
Say “Cruel nature has won again”
Cruel nature has won again
Cruel nature has won again
Cruel nature has won again