Blood-red banners united over the fields Where a thousand innocent victims grieve. Desperate populations, divided and conquered A million graves hidden, beneath the fallen leaves
Step forth from the shadows to this cursed place Bankers and thieves hungry for power. Blood soaked soil, where you were born Since the bastards set foot: filth, stench and war.
Their leaders wait above the celebration Sending their thoughts to the dispossessed. Who’s ivory face is beyond communication With a corpse laden smile they accept his caress.
As parasites and worms uphold a social peace We ride past decay and destruction in the ditches. Their sweet pretty flowers have corrupted the mass While disease reeks from their rotting stitches.
Torn between servitude and eruption A messenger arrives with a black nightingale. Critical eyes trained on the palace of mirrors Where cruel men construct our fairy tales.
The leaders smiling behind closed doors Turning deaf ears to the outraged cries. They’ve betrayed their cause, turned their backs Their death carrion rule from western skies.
The bones of the massacre Are forever on their dinner plates The violence of a resistant culture Will be the terror they create.
That iron cross around their necks Will drag the social order to its fate. Burning fires, winds of change Will blast their halls and clean the slate.
Dog soldiers will fetch their scraps Down the bloody road of imperialist crime. In empty halls where memory is protected Ghost voices whisper from ancient times.
At twelve midnight the sun is breaking Broken chains and fallen walls. What measures will be taken? When the graves are exposed and justice calls.
Tranquility and splendor on wheels of fire Will bring us reward when the false idols fall. Cruel death will rise and their pale ghosts retreat When the vultures they’ve roosted come home to call.
We don’t need your organization We’ve moved your mountains and marked your cards Now our hearts must have the courage For the burning of the guards.