Go my faithful soldier
Go
Let the fragrant incense rise
To those great rulers
And their lies.
Draw on them
Blessings down
Blood dripping from
Imperial crowns.
Go those wrathful soldiers
Go
Let the cost of living rise
Surveillance and slaughter
from the skies
Withdrawn from us
Past blessings found
Surrendered dignity
Destiny crushed or bound
By those great rulers
Of the skies
To whom we turn
Our adoring eyes.
See thy credulous subservience
Although
Their base perfidy you
Also know.
(A refrain from Handel’s “Theodora” updated)