Springtime and the killing is here the bloodshed will never disappear
Mercenaries of power and might kill each other on either side
Summer comes and it is all the same people slaughtered, wounded, and maimed
Sunny skies above deceive no happiness for those who grieve

Fall is here and the leaves are red like the blood running from the dead
Bombs blowing up every place sawed-off shotgun in your face
Winter snow upon the land children dead by terrorist hands
The count higher than the year before it is Spring again, let us kill some more
These are the seasons of terrorism these are the seasons of terrorism

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