Nothing breaths in what's left of this desolated nation
Destroyed by the hand of a petty god
Thirst for blood in the air, left behind by the men
Joining greed and irreverence in a venereal synod

Oh, Ikana
Land where the dead roam
Soil, a tombstone
For regret, a home

Supine from the pain of a century lost
Constraining the waltz of intramural war
Bodies decay, the souls they held watch
Grace held stagnant for evermore

Oh, Ikana
Land where the dead roam
Soil, a tombstone
For regret, a home

Equivocal trust, misconstrued
For the dead can be acquiescent, too
Nefarious, latent, inordinate intent
Renders spirits idle in unseeing consent

Oh, Ikana
Serve me, the shibboleth
In timorous death
In life after breath