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Sons, weep in mothers arms To the breast are clinging From that clutch, by fathers torn And thrust into the bla-blazing fields Cheeks still wet with cherubs tears Across Earth, unscarred Heavy blades are drawn Gouges, fathoms deep Well with blood Father's seed, mother's seed Seeds of war, seeds of lust Tears of pain Seem as joyous rapture We claw, we point At mutilated loins Faces pushed into the soil We are cleansed We are cleansed In the clutch of oblivion From Letras Mania