Massacre of the Innocents
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.