A landscape of beauty,
A monument to man...

You carve a scorched mark wherever you go,
You are the wielder of a mighty sword...

Hands which existed in darkness,
Hands which were bound unjustly...

Everybody says this is life,
But what do they know...

The glorious paintings of war,
Strung up in the castles of kings...

In our society
It is normality...

Why do politicians use their obvious poetic...
Not to portray elegant representations...

Thou ist dead.
So by talking to thou...

The bullets whip and crack
Around their heads...

Your flag flies
Your brother dies...