Water was running, children were running    You were running out of time    Under the mountain, a golden fountain    Were you praying at the Lares shrine?    But, oh, your city lies in dust, my friend       We found you hiding we found you lying    Choking on the dirt and sand    Your former glories and all the stories    Dragged and washed with eager hands       But, oh, your city lies in dust, my friend       Hot and burning in your nostrils    Pouring down your gaping mouth    Your molten bodies blanket of cinders    Caught in the throes      And your city lies in dust