what did it get you then?
soot-stained asshole at the top of the heap
a war on a sister religion
from the tyrant of terror, the commander-in-chief

get away, blackbreech
we�re all so sick of your smug smoke and mirrors
stop your hatespeech
your surge of soldiers ain�t saviours or heroes

who are you fooling?
sitting safely �cross the ocean in a white stronghold
do you think that we truly
believe that this is not about black gold?

eight years of plunder and lies	
our fate sealed under blood red skies
like a smeared empty promise of rebuilding
rebuilding nothing, we�re too busy killing

why did you do it to kin?
your sires straight into the fires
trampling down civilians
so no one is left to call you the liar?

get away, blackbreech
i know the name of hypocrisy
it�s an anagram of our treatment
O� He Buggers with a capital B