Burning sun, if you hear me Burn those roses in the sand They can sing their litany They can suffer in my tears. Land of communion burn inside. Rushing blood into my eyes Chant of widows on the streets Warriors coming right on their way But no enemies to fight. Land of confusion cast me aside. Out in the garden, sleeping, pleading Behind the doorway, begging, starving Around the corner mourners, murders We're just survivors in the city. Thoughts of death in words and knives Chant of widows in my mind They can sing my revenge And evoke the lord of fire. Land of communion burn inside. Land of confusion cast me aside.