Propaganda

We the rightful rulers of our lands
Face the mongrel hordes from desert sands
Have we forgotten our rightful place
And given control to an inferior race

How have we become so blind
To leave our values and morals behind
We must break the chains of their lies
Only then will Aryan folk arise

Ancient gods, grant me your sword
Blood and soil, our eternal reward
Heathen hammers crushing bone
As the pagan king ascends the throne

Never again bow to the swine
Kosher pigs shall not survive
We must drive them from our lands
And reclaim an empire, built by our hands

War horns summon the battle
Our steel shines in the sun
This time we cannot be stopped
The death march has begun