Из альбома: Third World Genocide
They come to rule and not by chance
Aided by a bloodied lance
No elections needed here
Such things mundane are not their way
A thousand rivals lying dead
And their families starved, decayed
No relief by foreign aid
A poisoned dagger is their way
Government by those who kill
And then collect from U.N. tills
They live on aid and ask for more
When all it does is pay for way
So carefree
Your killing spree
I must be blind I can't see
Tell me what is human life worth
The skies cry bloody tears