Kill them, O men brave and proud, it’s all we can do;
They’re barbarians, wretches, inhuman blood-stew.
You cannot dare spare them, the vile and the damned.
Tear them and rip- not men, just beasts. Understand?
That child, a murderer, the woman, a foe-whore,
That infant, a thief, that old man, his sister tore,
These men are all but animals, raised on death-cries,
Kill all these men, never heeding lying eyes.
See innocents butchered with truth-telling vision,
Watch them tortured with brutish imprecision,
Can’t you see, with your eyes, with your all-truthful eyes?
Do not mind that the dead bear sign of foe’s side.
We’re calling them criminals, defilers of war,
Of a great grand beauty whom we love and adore,
We’re reluctant to join, it is true, it is true,
We’ve ne’er lied before. Why would we lie to you?
Throw out your bottles, throw out your wines, call them pus,
Only the enemy keeps aught he’s made, save us.
Abandon the foe and throw out their children; see,
Those children’s hands were not of blood ever free.
The enemy is among us, men, amidst us,
They’re wolves at your door; they’re bears in your halls. Now, cuss,
Cut, slice, burn them out, small and large, young and old; seethe.
Till we’re free of their torments, shut eyes, believe.
We’re not like them, who burn down homes, remember now,
We’re not like them, who torture all men, remember now
We’re not like them, who would lie as soon as speak more,
We’re not like them, and have we lied e’er before?
Blood like tar, they have, and minds of mud, rotten phlegm.
They cannot defeat us; we’re far greater than them.
They’re weak and impotent, hungry and vile; now, boor,
Cut, slash, crush till they’re a threat to you no more.
Your wife they would ravage and your children erase,
Your home they would burn and your heart they would taste.
They’re true savages, murderers; abhor all ruth.
Those tears in their eyes: those are lies. It’s the truth!
Our men they are brave and strong and honest and proud,
The signs that they wear are for all that is good-sound.
You know they are so, if you’re not kin to the cur.
You will never want to be foe-friend, I’m sure.
They’ve spies in our camps and evil men of their ilk,
Men still ranting and raving and lying like silk.
Don’t pay heed to their words, don’t consider their cries,
Yes, yes, we tell you the truth, honest, no lies.
Sorry, good-bye, the rocket’s red glare will soon burst,
Is it ours? Theirs? Do you like it? Who cares? Who durst?
While you watch, our men die, theirs, their children, not ours,
Heed me; they are brutes. Go and kill. Build our towers.
