The holy place you yearn for
will be your grave
No sermon will cover painful screams
Of women and children
Hundreds murdered
In the name of the greatest lie
Weak,miserable mind
Holding a puppet-banner
Subjugated by divine commandment
Christian blood,mixed with the saracen's
Same colour,same stench
Agonizing murmur the last prayer
Never will be heard…but the vultures
Feasting of your bowels
Thousands like you
marching proud...swallowed by the abyss
Become an hanged corpse
On the walls of the holy city
Kill an infidel is the way to heaven
God wants it
Your belief…your ruin

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