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