There’s blood upon this very land.
There’s blood upon this earth.
Blood is dripping all around,
Awaiting for rebirth.

Blood was spilled before our time.
As tales of old do tell.
Yet even now upon this land,
It’s our own blood that we spill.

The cycle comes, the cycle goes
And around us weaves a web.
This land cries out for sacrifice
And once more we pay our debt.