The maelstrom is growing, ever seething ever throwing,
And the winds of chaos blowing from the storm outside your door,
The fires are still burning and the children slowly learning
That the wheels are ever turning of the chariots of war.
The drums of hell are beating, for salvation we’re entreating,
The machine is overheating and it’s you it’s looking for,
The jaws are ever gnashing, the cruel fists forever smashing,
The slave driver ever lashing from the chariots of war.
The guns are poised and ready, with their aim so true and steady,
The seething seas are heady, and they’re rising red with gore,
Everybody’s got their reasons, when they’re marching in their legions,
Decimating every region, lead by chariots of war.
The radio is blaring to the people they are scaring,
Dead eyed stares forever glaring at the beast and scarlet whore,
Their laughter turns to cackles from one thousand bloody battles,
Yet they still can’t break the shackles of the chariots of war.
The children are all crying for their hope is slowly dying,
But the powers are still lying from their rancid rotten core,
The fruits of your disaster are approaching ever faster,
To overthrow the master of the chariots of war.
Fragile hope comes from the ashes of the countless violent clashes,
To preclude the endless lashes on the pale horse they tore,
The offspring of the sick will cast aside the beating stick,
And frustrate the politics of the chariots of war.
He’ll galvanise the masses, that when such a time passes,
They’ll strike back at the fascists and beat them to the floor,
They shall defeat the trickster, and be crowned the glorious victor,
And onward ride the chariots to destruction, nevermore.
Though hearts he will assail, his dark conquest cannot fail,
Like the beast he will prevail and unleash a mighty roar,
The pale horse defeated, and the slave driver unseated,
Boundless gallantry shall reign triumphant here forevermore.
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