The echoes are aloud
Sounds of the Ishmaelite crowd
Chanting all over the shore
It might be the songs of war.
If I heard them well,
They're gathering to ring the bell
Not for peace, but proposed war
A fight for their god.
Over a river flow of blood
Dripping in their hands more like a flood
Still they have the guts
To place justice on halt.
Whose blood is crying?
It's that of the daughter of Israel
Spilled by the sons of Ishmael
For a god that gives no life
What will happen over time?
For the north have lost rest even at night
Chaos in day light
Fear of the unknown neighbor.
More like an irony
Praying for these tyranny
Otherwise, ye men
Pray for the brethren.