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