How do we receive our guests?nAmbush and arsonnHow to they salute their hosts?nRoadblocks and wolfhoundsnCattle-cars and bayonets nwill sleep in our bedsnnOften we wake to find our tears nhave turned to winenAnd often we have lived for one more year nto taste revengenOften we have lived for one more yearnto be oppressed againnnThey came without warningnThe bomb squad wokenfrom a dream of a planet without firenThey came without warningnA burning plane hit the steeple of the churchnand then was gonennWhen the grenadiers were lost nin the vineyardnThe moon was silver and full nand showed us their trailnWe surrounded their convoynand lit our fusesnWe smoked them out nConfused, terrified and glassy-eyednnThey never had a chance to say goodbyenand some of them criednThey never had a chance nbut neither did wenThe poison glassnnWhen I kiss a dusty floornthat tastes like a bandagenI think of all the oaths and vowsnthat break with my tonguennI think of you sometimesnYour eyes avoiding minenas you were suspended from a treenyour eyes on menAlthough you had the chance, you didn't leavenYou stayed with me