Home of titans where extension is the frame Remission is the play in this amaranthine game In our compulsory advance the conquest belts the soil We build loggers of the wild land that never will recoil The terms are definite in this exhausted engine Scarred in the heavens blood and seared into its skin In the contamination range the ice turns out insane And a merciful tariff does not make us humane Home of titans where dominion stuns the will Cannibals and ogres they have a pouch to fill In our loathsome acumen inheritance is tyranny Our anima is overcome and a womb is strategy A seduction essential in a lunatic cadence A perfection of the style but a murder of the sense The executive array operates a mercycane But the occasional pardon does not make us humane Home of titans where we shadow our own sun Rapists and assassins we all become In our machinery of greed a life is but a tool Love is a residue innocent blood is fuel Yes we all partake in this atrocity This is the land of the axe and of the mercenary Then we write out contracts in order not to cut a vein But hiding slaughter in four walls does not make us humane
humane, titan, mercycane, acumen, tariff