May every shaman, every priest, who's sent our young to die
Before their time, in foreign fields, be branded with his lies.
Let falsities shout plain and clear, in scars upon their skin
So all may know the blackened, shrivelled heart which lies within.
The blood-soaked mud of a thousand wars attests the gory thirst
Of gods of love, whose hate fills graves and overworks the hearse.
And hate-filled, loving parents love a god of love, who hates;
And pass that loving on, and hate becomes innate.
"For God and queen and country," shout church, mosque, synagogue,
And hate flows hot and red and sweet; a vintage fit for a God.
And the young go on to kill and die, as parents did before,
As vampire gods smile down—in blood replete, engorged.
A thousand and one damnations on Allah's curséd name;
On all the violence and hate for which he takes the blame.
For all the blood and sacrifice; for a million battle-cries,
May maggots feast on Yahweh's heart, and worms infest his eyes.
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