Bury as many children as possible
Tides are rising, the barbican has fallen
Soon we engulf the looming castle of revulsion
Forcing every blackened impurity into the cesspit’s throat
Intruding the graves, exposing immoral crimes
The lame, casted of your own foible structure, float as driftwood
Among the corridors
Spewing forth vile fillings, from what once was your heart
Clogging as arteries ruptured at the seams
Innocence departed long ago
Slumping toward the floor
Laughter in your slaughter
Taken from sons and their daughters
Patient we wait by the door
Smoke from the ashes as currents take the remains
We’re all chanting your name
Death comes feasting with a craving demand
Our heirs will not inherit the foul animosity
Our hearts aspire greater than ever perceived
Tides have risen not of Caesar’s command
We’re all chanting your name
We’re all chanting your name
Etched in cast iron live for ever
We’re all chanting your name
Intruding graves exposing crimes
We’re all chanting your name
Forcing every blackened impurity
We’re all chanting your name
Silence for the sultan
The king rest his head