They count their gold by night, They count the dead by day They dance upon the graves, As to their God they pray And freedom is their lie, Democracy their seed Their houses built of corpses, Yet none dare call it greed
A curse upon your cross A curse upon your kind From there may you be hung In Death may hell you find
They plan their wars by night,They sell their wars by day The relive the lies they tell, As in their beds they lay But guilt does not discomfort, For this Christ blood was shed Their amoral creed was born, For this the world is bled
They sacrifice their nation, They commerce in genocide They see only God's chosen, And to all else they lied And their faith is blasphemy, And their god is not real Only Satan within their mirrors, And the plunder that they steal