No Nation On This Earth - Primordial

 The sea will be as a desert

 When my bones are long to dust

 Beneath shifting dunes

 And the searing Unconquerable son

 Pile the bodies on the pyre

 Warm the old heart of the earth

 This is no place for faith, nor for hope

 Just a journey through the darkest of nights

 To the old heart of the earth

 These are wounds made by cold hands

 That know the bite of steel

 Hands that have rendered life extinct

 And punished the weak at heart

 Tell me what Nation on this Earth

 That has not felt such harsh weapons

 Wielded by cruelty's desire