The troops were tired, it began to snow Beyond sundown, their horses became slow What, from the distance, appeared to be a campfire Was a ransacked village slowly burning down From out of nowhere In the middle of the night Butchered, not a single soul left alive See a man come of his high horse, see him shake The general's slowest steepest descent towards hell Glowing sacrifices on the altars of hate The broken wombs the severed heads of man and mice He recognizes his place of birth What we do it is not right! As they were shouting: Don't go inside The flying saucer spreads its light Wolfs spring from the undergrowth Snakes crawl from the pitchers Of bitten throats and poisoned wells Of warlords and their witchers A trick of cards A bruised knee Amidst the graves Below the olive tree The world at war The mind at peace A small device With games and imagery I'm not going to tell 'Cause they will take me elsewhere