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Water was running; children were running |
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You were running out of time |
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Under the mountain, a golden fountain |
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Were you praying at the lares shrine? |
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But oh your city lies in dust, my friend |
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We found you hiding we found you lying |
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Choking on the dirt and sand |
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Your former glories and all the stories |
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Dragged and washed with eager hands |
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But oh your city lies in dust, my friend |
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Hot and burning in your nostrils |
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Pouring down your gaping mouth |
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Your molten bodies blanket of cinders |
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Caught in the throes ....... |
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And your city lies in dust |
