Holy is the land
By his own hand we've been chosen
From coast to golden coast raise your gla** make a toast
Can we hear it for the ones who brought us here?
It's been a rather agonizing, arduous affair
One that swims with malice in crimson tides of war
Is there a message to be delivered or a crusade you implore?
Leaps and bounds across the earth the way we've come so far
Now marvel at the canyon between fact and blatant farce
And ask yourself how murder can be justified by a message from the stars
All hail to the animals with no language for to hear
Shame be to young gentlemen with the hearts and minds that fear
Feast old swine from golden trough, grow fat of blood and oil
Wallow in the finer things and sing to the victor go the spoils
On and on through sands of time we march in somebody's name
And without fail each time it seems conclusions are the same
But what sweeter kings we'd be if pages burned and new ones were written