When We Pray For Doom

I hear the drums sound Can you hear the horn call Thousands of boots pound There no longer is a wall I hear the screams of innocence Silenced by the barrel of lady freedom Women and children defiled in vileness Becoming a memory in a museum Can you see the children They're being touched by evil With no escape they will run As it comes again to feed, a weevil We've prayed for our own doom To a God made of money Can you smell that fume Shit smeared with gallons of honey Can you taste the blood in your mouth Or have we become glutinous for flesh No longer a battle over north or south Instead over what they desire fresh Do you feel the pain of the blade How many we see die before waking Burying bodies with a stained spade Ripping our guts with each quaking We're all going to die And we are our own executioner We aren't going to float to the sky There is no longer a hope of Lucifer