Outremer

Thus to Holy War, our songs that turned to roar.
Onward in our cause, we judged by holy laws.
Hailed the sacred creed, fell on bended knee.
Death that filled our wake, blood that stained our hands.

Thus we reached the land, sacred man beheld.
Vessel of a sin, none shall call him King.
Thorns were always gold, blood that never flowed
Death lay in his wake, blood that stained his hands.

Take away his shield.
Tear apart his standard.
Shouting, sanctify this holy lie.

Wash your face with tears.
Wash your hands with soil.
Wash away this holy lie.

Dawn across the land, return to ancient creed
Mother, Father, child. Now and ever be.
Praise the wind and rain, praise the joy and pain.
Never havoc cry nor loose the dogs of war.