Laibach

The rising of the century
Did not bring catharsis.
The rising of the century
Did not bring salvation.
The crack is getting deeper,
The flames are burning higher.
Lost and hunted refugees
Are chanting in the circle.
The predators of the Great Divide
Are cutting their throats,
Slicing their guts,
And drinking their blood.
This world was always fertile
At the root of our tongues.
Our tongues were always cut
At the root of our words.
We have reached the good and evil
And we didn’t speak much.
Bloody soil – fertile land,
Bloody soil – fertile land.
But then we had to leave
To go further,
Through blistering heat,
Chasing death,