From great Persia
Blows hot winds
Created by the last breath
Of a thousand men

Carrying the smell of blood (and herbs)
Through the sands of time
Eden on earth
Is where we pay for our crimes

With the sand storm
They will come
Bye the light of their blades
They make their path

Carrying the smell of blood (and herbs)
Through the sands of time
Eden on earth
Is where we pay for our crimes

Nothing can stop us
In the hunt for our prey
We learned the truth
And it leads our way

There's no truth
There's no truth at all!

By: Marks01