Conquest

So many dead,
so many dead,
We cannot count
So many dead.
First a village,
Then a town
Bodies piled seven high
Now ashes in the ground.
Drag each mother from her child,
Each husband from his chores,
Old and young
Their song is sung
And they shall sing no more.
Raze the shelters,
Torch the fields,
Pull their alters down.
Praise our Lord
And do his will
Bring glory to his crown.
Praise our Lord
And in his name
Each sword becomes a flame
So many dead, so many dead,
We do this in his name.
And more and more
Around each bend
And more and more the same
Praise our Lord
And do his will
All glory to his name.