|
The sword is no match for the bomb |
|
So they fight in the shadows and kill in the streets |
|
With cowardly tactics of kill and retreat |
|
They escape into darkness |
|
And blend into crowds, soon to reappear |
|
They can hide in their temples |
|
And prey in their mosques |
|
The line has been drawn |
|
The line has been crossed |
|
And soon they shall feel |
|
Their final demise |
|
Holy walls come crashing down |
|
The immolated bodies burn |
|
Now Fallujah in napalm fire burns |
|
Their futile stand comes to an end |
|
Once a great threat |
|
Now just a thorn stuck in our side |
|
The human disease |
|
Poisoning visions of religious greed |
|
Deserted lands burning in pools of petroleum waste |
|
Endless night |
|
Holy walls come crashing down |
|
The immolated bodies burn |
|
Now Fallujah in napalm fire burns |
|
Their futile stand comes to an end |
|
Like swarms of locusts |
|
Through dessert sands invading |
|
Like a moth drawn to the fire |
|
They await their annihilation |
|
And soon they'll feel |
|
A surge of power |
|
And soon they'll feel |
|
The wrath of vengeance |
|
And now they'll feel |
|
A surge of power |
|
And soon they'll feel |
|
A surge of power |
|
And soon they'll feel |
|
The wrath of vengeance |
|
And now they'll feel |
|
A surge of power |
|
Bow down to the lord of desolation |
|
Bow down to the deafening silence |
|
Bow down to the lord of desolation |
|
No way out |
