Hold my son up to the gods, a shining child to behold.
For soon his father will be gone, on the plains of Ilium,
I must fall.
Sons of kings I've turned away,
but the ten year siege ends today my love.
So hold him to the sky once more
the harvest of the seeds of war you've sown.
Beauty's curse a thousand ships
ten thousand men upon the strand,
so look at him and don't pretend.
There is no sorrow in your eyes at all.
He doesn't recognize my face
beneath this bronze I contemplate the end.
They've made their sacrifice before
the altar of the gods of war they call.
Pour the wine onto the sand,
mix the blood of fallen men.
War for beauty must now end,
leave the broken sword for the son.
Sons of kings we return today
forsaken by the gods we've slain we're lost.
Our fast ships on the grey ocean,
we kneel and wash our weapons in the sea.