The blue cloud of doomnFell upon my landnFelt upon my swordnBeheading for a feastnOur swords covered with bloodnBeneath the melting sunnThe praise is for pagan lordsnReturning from the huntnOur village was set afirenThe females screamed for helpnThe sand-demons have scarred our sacred landnAshes and smoke were leftnTo remind us of failurenThe women had been stainednBy the rodents of the desertnCarriers of the diseasenLeft for us to findnWe must please Satan attack the rodents of the sandsnBattle...Swallowed by the sandnThe land was fully conquerednBut the desert could not be ownednThey slithered to the corenTo praise Yahweh at nightfallnThe children had been takennTheir juice sucked into the sandnThe sun reflected their bloodnFluids consumed by the rodents belownThe blue cloud of doomnFell upon my landnFelt upon my sword