O lord
Set free our souls
From this flock
Of political scourge
Damned sons of the Twin Rivers
That claim holy blasphemies
Even from the puny man
Who mans our home
And his puppeteer
Who steer him
Into dangerous stunts
That distraught the ambience
Of our home
O sword
Slay
Slay them all
The beasts that refuse divinity
Mother earth
Has blessed us
Song
Chronicles of ill-starred home
Their egos
Spun with dark magic
And we are lost
In this blasphemous folly
That threatens our existence
But we are the first born
Of a bright dawn
