The body atrophies
Unbeknownst to the head,
Our masters are the authors of their own demise,
When we stop believing in a god,
His power declines.

Now young British hearts are to be sacrificed
On the altar of American enterprise,
In the past a chieftain led his thralls from the front,
He stared into his enemies eyes;
Wars were fewer then.

Now scoundrels embrace their nation's flag,
And scorn those who do not likewise call for war,
They have not walked in No-Mans-Land,
Rifle in hand,
But gladly enjoin battle on some stranger's sons.

Like jaded kings,
We beckon for new wonders,
The matrons and the senators of Rome,
Mocked their gods like us,
And rent their State asunder.

Gold and oil are of the earth,
And the Prince of the Earth is not a friend to Man;
Do not worship him.

If you nurse and raise up vipers,
Do not be surprised if they sting your kin.