May the kings all drown in their blood of their conquests
May the flags all die at the top of their poles
May the gluttons be impaled upon the ribs of the starving
And the priests all sell their souls
May the dreamers all awaken in a world that is empty
May the lovers betray and be betrayed
May the poets all choke on their sweet lies
May the seekers wander lost through the valleys and the 
deserts
And lay down to sleep upon stones
May the sick flourish and the healthy be afflicted
And may rats fight over the bones
May hate rule pitilessly over the bones
Where rivers cease to run
Let the sun set forever on this broken heartland
Let the kingdom come.