Tonight, the streets are burning, illuminating parades against profanity Zealots work to turn the wheels of time back before modernity Pyres are lit for those who dare to doubt The veracity of the prevailing creed Bite your tongue! For heaven’s sake! Your doubts you ought not spout Lest you should hear the inquisitors screech: are you a witch? It’s two minutes to midnight Doomsday prophets come to draft you to their corps You say: ‘For all I know you might be right, but I don’t want to fight your holy war’ They say: ‘It’s with us or against us Our cause is just, we see no middle way We’ll hail you as a brother or smite you to dust So, quit bedevilling us! Tell us without delay!’ Are you a witch? Have the demons of disbelief led you to a fatal mistake? Are you a witch? Either you fly their flag or be doomed to burn at the stake Confess, confess

Campfires on hillsides resemble stars in the sky A grim mise en scène for what will be our last night Forty-five foes for each of our swords All dreams of glory now lost, we plead with our Lord Almighty, have mercy! Oh oh oh As the sun sets behind the mountains, we lie in wait in grievous despair We sense the footfall of thousands as their retinue arrives in the square Now into this plaza filled with majesty, silver and gold Treads our emissary of God, bringing salvation for these wretched souls Oh oh oh Words of disrespect and threats of bloodshed prompt a signal for our cannons to fire Our cavalry assaults, prepared to fight to the death for God and the empire We rise from our hiding places and follow the thunder of our guns Our rapiers slashing cotton and flesh we charge towards the only one Scores of them fall into a bloody mass Their axes cannot cleave the Castilian cuirass The grand army of the mountains now flees Behold the triumph of steel! Two thousand foes lie slain, yet our troops stand The son of the sun has fallen in our hands The empire of the mountains is now on its knees Behold the triumph of steel! Oh oh oh