it’s rule by bomb and bullet
the night air all a jangle
and who can hear the tolling
in all the jingle jangle?
all this for our kings and queens
all this for our descendants?
now some say God made brothers
not masters and attendants
but God’s brought to the war-zone
and he fights for every side
and he’ll shower us with blessings
when we conquer and divide
I got no angle as I jangle
just got my orders, brother
and if the pins demand it
the bells will mourn all others
today I shot a sniper down
perhaps your brother, soldier
and as his lover curdles
who will command you, soldier?