The God forsaken riflemen stand rigid at the bar
The kids discover victims in the rubble and the tar
They’re married to ambition, to the slogans of the war
Slogans that used to be scrawled on the wall are written in the heart
A woman bows to Mecca and she struggles to her feet
It’s better since the president took shooting off the street
She pictures all the poverty, the cursed holy war
The pictures that used to be scrawled on the wall are written in the heart
The elders make a promise that they forge it in the fire
The general’s car is sabatoged, four bullets in the tire
With the burning of the words there goes the scorching of the earth
The words that used to be scrawled on the wall are written in the heart