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 heaven's 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 mercy-cane   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