Wandering in the wastes we have won,
Feeling the dead wind on our faces,
Won through lies and deception,
Cheating and death and endless maces.
Eating the flesh of other men’s years,
Letting them steal the cow’s cud,
Children’s deaths bring mothers’ tears,
As they watch the seas cough up their blood.
Lies are a wasting plague,
Their victory is dead and void,
First bright, then dull and vague,
Standing amidst all we destroyed.
