His carefully constructed kingdom of sand 
Looms and towers above, casting phallic shadows
Shining in the sun to force bitter black sorrow
Over the silent, weeping kingdoms' he commands
Their blood, tears, and innocence he demands
I'm so bitterly sorry for him, I am
Tragically woeful that I won't give a damn
About what anguish he'll feel when I raze his lands
Have him come for me once more and be destroyed 
As Karma his sullied, infected ego will bruise 
I'll sew his lips shut and let him weep in silence 
Let his wounds decay and the oppressed his death enjoy 
As gangrene oozes in his throat as he in others oozed 
Oh, yes! How worthily the worthless rot away!

Let his blood be his last release
As the sun slides over his fetid ruins and his shadow shrinks
Thus every kingdom of sand will decease
As the world learns the truth, and their blood we drink