home of titans - where extension is the frame remission is the play - in this amaranthine game in our compulsory advance - the conquest belts the soil we build loggers of the wild land - that never will recoil the terms are definite - in this exhausted engine scarred in the heaven's blood - and seared into its skin in the contamination range - the ice turns out insane and a merciful tariff - does not make us humane
home of titans - where dominion stuns the will cannibals and ogres - they have a pouch to fill in our loathsome acumen - inheritance is tyranny our anima is overcome - and a womb is strategy a seduction essential - in a lunatic cadence a perfection of the style - but a murder of the sense the executive array - operates a mercy-cane but the occasional pardon - does not make us humane
home of titans - where we shadow our own sun rapists and assassins - we all become in our machinery of greed - a life is but a tool love is a residue - innocent blood is fuel yes we all partake - in this atrocity this is the land of the axe - and of the mercenary then we write out contracts - in order not to cut a vein but hiding slaughter in four walls - does not make us humane
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