The holy place you yearn for 
will be your grave 
No sermon will cover painful screams 
Of women and children 
Hundreds murdered 
In the name of the greatest lie 
Weak,miserable mind 
Holding a puppet-banner 
Subjugated by divine commandment 
Christian blood,mixed with the saracen's 
Same colour,same stench 
Agonizing murmur the last prayer 
Never will be heard…but the vultures 
Feasting of your bowels 
Thousands like you 
marching proud...swallowed by the abyss 
Become an hanged corpse 
On the walls of the holy city 
Kill an infidel is the way to heaven 
God wants it 
Your belief…your ruin