rising from the dust
carved down by centuries of thought
transformed now into red ash
I swim in the blood of my ancestors
the books are steps towards a higher, better place
an illusion for fanatics
el jihad kick us forward
and from the running horses
we throw arrows with not mercy
cursing the infidels
scorpions have invaded the altars
the mummy is rising again, smiling with an innocent look
our world is coming to an end
but what do we care, forging gold inside our blindness
kings over ideas and nothing else
lords of the mind
only a sad story in the end
the devil is nothing but a bad fairytale
we are sitting around a camp fire
here, at the end of the world
from the fortunate lords of the books
we became now the infamous
lords of nothingness...