Above the lake of fire there's fighting in the air An invasion of the warriors of love Attempting a re-conquest of the realm down below They should know they do not stand a chance because Feathers burn, leather doesn't Without their wings they fall Screaming they fall into the lake We will get them all Feathers burn, leather doesn't Without their wings they fall Their bodies will be collected by us And the cook pot is ready to boil This war began before all time we will never serve And bow to the Meek and the Mild But they keep on trying and they keep on dying And soon we will feast upon holy flesh