Death hue falling on the faces of the streets 
lost children as the mortar fire broken in
Nights cold, slipping through the cracks 
breaking through the cracks of [bad word] plaster.
Hunger gnaws, I can feel it claws but the pain of a bullet would 
burn much hotter in the spot like,
mounted on the cannon of the tank the prowls.

Holy war, deliver me, rest my fear, I can not see.

Nameless, but I no the faces of the kids I sleep in Jezebels lair with
Thoughtless breaking my bread tween the mine 
fields flowers and gullies with daises.
Some times 
I can find some rations that a solider let fall when the wind or life left him.
Some times I can find a gun on a pistol or a knife to use.

Holy war, deliver me, rest my fear, I can not see. 
My eyes are blind, my bodies lame, my families gone, in my gods name, Holy Wars.

Nameless, faceless, but a tear or a dollar won't buy my justice. 
Pearless clothed less then a war torn child should sleep or focus.
Once I watched as a cannon slot fell through the stained 
glass window of a church on my street, once 
I sat on a steeple now laying in the church yards playground.

Holy war, deliver me, rest my fear, 
I can not see. 
My eyes are blind, my bodies lame, 
my families gone, in my gods name, Holy Wars.