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