Bow to the flags that wave in the wind
Swear your souls to the country that never dies
Morality is a curse; that present we've sinned
Destruction of the flower that ever so tries

Stand up before the trumpets that beckon your name
May we look before the land that shows a desolate fate
The ultimate replacement of joy is fame
So forget your body at the field; it's already too late

Let this be our anthem against the enemies of good
And do not feel sorry for a little bloodshed
You'd rather be living than with the dead
Replicating peace is something nobody ever could.