Gareth Evans: Deep in the jungles of Cambodia, far from the Western gaze Sits a mystic gypsy prophet in an opium haze Dark are the secrets she reveals to you, tales of the future told And she spoke to me of an evil, pure and cold. She said, "Dogs of damnation lurk towards your land, Sprung from the loins of Satan, bred at their master's hand. Dogs of damnation: Even now they stir upon your shore..." Paul Keating: Gareth, Gareth, tell me more.
Evans: Black was the vision she betrayed to me, black with the sound of doom And the subtle taste of a nation cased in gloom Three was the number of the beast, she said, three of the demon breed Then her face turned white and her eyes began to bleed. She cried, "Dogs of damnation, human to the eye Three will rise against you, then the end is nigh. Dogs of damnation, now their master's call shall be obeyed... Keating: Gareth, Gareth, I'm afraid.