Burning sun, if you hear me

Burn those roses in the sand

They can sing their litany

They can suffer in my tears.

Land of communion burn inside.

Rushing blood into my eyes

Chant of widows on the streets

Warriors coming right on their way

But no enemies to fight.

Land of confusion cast me aside.

Out in the garden, sleeping, pleading

Behind the doorway, begging, starving

Around the corner mourners, murders

We're just survivors in the city.

Thoughts of death in words and knives

Chant of widows in my mind

They can sing my revenge

And evoke the lord of fire.

Land of communion burn inside.

Land of confusion cast me aside.