APOCALYPSE

Under the ancient sky, crossing the desert sand,
Men with their tanks and war-machines
Blasting the Holy Land.

Fleeing the clouds in flames, living the Earth's last day;
Feeling the winds of war move on
Blowing their lives away.

Men in their anguish cry, watching the death fires burn:
"Are we the last men in the world
Praying for God's return?"

Scorching the desert sand, dreaming of evening's shade,
Haunted by sleeping buried tears
When pyramid stones were laid.

- - - Red, so red is the blood of Man;
- - - Black is the oil of Earth;
- - - Gold is the strife that steals each life,
- - - Paying the price it's worth.

Ever the dust will blow, ever the cities sleep;
Only the sun will rise and set
When there is none to weep.

Leaders who rise in wars, what are your empires worth?
Sacred the life of every man
Living for peace on Earth.

Under the ancient sky, crossing the desert sands,
Men with their tanks and war-machines
Wasting the Eastern Lands.