Crysknife

Crysknife held in foreign hands
Grinds men to sand, anchoring their arms
Worm tooth held at rider's side
We cut the sun from the liar's eyes
Desert wisdom, desert blades
Living under sun we carve this place a name
Thirsty for the body's gift
We bleed you and save the skin
Be now as the worm, this Hell is your home
From its mouth pull your blade, unfixed, unstained
Now claim your sand
Sell the spice and claim your sand