Holy is the land By his own hand we've been chosen From coast to golden coast raise your glass make a toast Can we hear it for the ones who brought us here? It's been a rather agonizing, arduous affair One that swims with malice in crimson tides of war Is there a message to be delivered or a crusade you implore? Leaps and bounds across the earth the way we've come so far Now marvel at the canyon between fact and blatant farce And ask yourself how murder can be justified by a message from the stars All hail to the animals with no language for to hear Shame be to young gentlemen with the hearts and minds that fear Feast old swine from golden trough, grow fat of blood and oil Wallow in the finer things and sing to the victor go the spoils On and on through sands of time we march in somebody's name And without fail each time it seems conclusions are the same But what sweeter kings we'd be if pages burned and new ones were written