| 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 |