Children with their toys of war Birthright of death with a fiery breath Funeral of any sense Painted up in the red and dressed in lead We are Are we prisoners or renegades? Well, I've done my time Woah Behold visions of burning skies Alas Babylon Woah, woah, woah, woah Mother's of barbarians Woah Were your young so spry when they left to die? We are Are we prisoners or renegades? Well, I've done my time Woah Behold visions of burning skies Alas Babylon Woah, woah, woah, woah Woah, woah, woah, woah Woah, woah, woah, woah