I'm sick to the teeth of the news on the screen
Of hisbullah scum and jihad the obscene
Whose men plant the bombs and then live feeling free
To watch women and children be killed on T.V.
Which satan delivers a child a death curse
In the name of a worn out collection of verse
I've not read the book so I cannot recite
But I'd bet Salman Rushdie is just about right
Underneath the black cloud of islam
What kind of publicity needs so much blood
That's not for some sad diablical god
Selling himself as a two-bit Macbeth
As the expect in sentencing cousins to death
And what kind of god can this be anyway
That you have to prostrate to him five times a day
With hate in your heart and a gun in your hand
Is force the only thing to understand
Underneath the black cloud of islam?
And the butchers who've got all this blood on their hands
Are the ones who need god to be stood where he stands
Blessing this kidnapping, murder and war
With books written hundreds of ages before
And woman in veils walking paces behind
Doesn't sit easy in my mind
It speaks of oppression and no other choice
That rigid compliance with the loudest voice
Underneath the black cloud of islam
You can put a lead bullet clean through this guitar
'cos I'm not overjoyed with the story so far
Sharing a world with the nutters of god
Is as good as being six feet under the sod
Words that are written are all here to say
And these are the latest there are anyway
And I am the prophet so don't believe me
I'm the same as the old ones expect that I'm free
To give you a piece of my mind which is this
You're the worst of jehovas blind witlessnesses
With your feet in the door of the deepest abyss
Which is underneath the black cloud of islam
Harper Roy - The Black Cloud Of Islam Lyrics
Harper Roy - The Black Cloud Of Islam Lyrics
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English
I'm sick to the teeth of the news on the screen
Of hisbullah scum and jihad the obscene
Whose men plant the bombs and then live feeling free
To watch women and children be killed on T.V.
Which satan delivers a child a death curse
In the name of a worn out collection of verse
I've not read the book so I cannot recite
But I'd bet Salman Rushdie is just about right
Underneath the black cloud of islam
What kind of publicity needs so much blood
That's not for some sad diablical god
Selling himself as a two-bit Macbeth
As the expect in sentencing cousins to death
And what kind of god can this be anyway
That you have to prostrate to him five times a day
With hate in your heart and a gun in your hand
Is force the only thing to understand
Underneath the black cloud of islam?
And the butchers who've got all this blood on their hands
Are the ones who need god to be stood where he stands
Blessing this kidnapping, murder and war
With books written hundreds of ages before
And woman in veils walking paces behind
Doesn't sit easy in my mind
It speaks of oppression and no other choice
That rigid compliance with the loudest voice
Underneath the black cloud of islam
You can put a lead bullet clean through this guitar
'cos I'm not overjoyed with the story so far
Sharing a world with the nutters of god
Is as good as being six feet under the sod
Words that are written are all here to say
And these are the latest there are anyway
And I am the prophet so don't believe me
I'm the same as the old ones expect that I'm free
To give you a piece of my mind which is this
You're the worst of jehovas blind witlessnesses
With your feet in the door of the deepest abyss
Which is underneath the black cloud of islam
Of hisbullah scum and jihad the obscene
Whose men plant the bombs and then live feeling free
To watch women and children be killed on T.V.
Which satan delivers a child a death curse
In the name of a worn out collection of verse
I've not read the book so I cannot recite
But I'd bet Salman Rushdie is just about right
Underneath the black cloud of islam
What kind of publicity needs so much blood
That's not for some sad diablical god
Selling himself as a two-bit Macbeth
As the expect in sentencing cousins to death
And what kind of god can this be anyway
That you have to prostrate to him five times a day
With hate in your heart and a gun in your hand
Is force the only thing to understand
Underneath the black cloud of islam?
And the butchers who've got all this blood on their hands
Are the ones who need god to be stood where he stands
Blessing this kidnapping, murder and war
With books written hundreds of ages before
And woman in veils walking paces behind
Doesn't sit easy in my mind
It speaks of oppression and no other choice
That rigid compliance with the loudest voice
Underneath the black cloud of islam
You can put a lead bullet clean through this guitar
'cos I'm not overjoyed with the story so far
Sharing a world with the nutters of god
Is as good as being six feet under the sod
Words that are written are all here to say
And these are the latest there are anyway
And I am the prophet so don't believe me
I'm the same as the old ones expect that I'm free
To give you a piece of my mind which is this
You're the worst of jehovas blind witlessnesses
With your feet in the door of the deepest abyss
Which is underneath the black cloud of islam