Lyrics
Famine always hangs his lamp
Above the holy land
Hangs his lamp, he hangs his lamp
Above the holy land
Pestilence will pitch his tent
Upon the promised land
Pitch his tent, he'll pitch his tent
Upon the promised land
Death will always break his bread
within the temple walls
Break his bread, he'll break his bread
Within the temple walls
War will always find his mistress
In the highest tower
Find her waiting, find her waiting
In the highest tower
