We came in on the horizon line,
Steel in the sun, ships cutting brine,
Boots in the sand where the wells run deep,
Promises buried the earth can’t keep.
Engines hum like a gospel choir,
Smoke in the sky like holy fire,
You say it’s wrong, you say it’s sin—
But power’s a game, and we play to win.
(Pre-Chorus)
We didn’t write the rules of the land,
Just learned how to hold it in our hands,
When the ground bleeds black and the borders shake,
We take what the weak can’t make.
(Chorus)
Stars and iron, side by side,
Marching in on a rising tide,
Oil and earth beneath our feet,
History hums to a heavy beat.
You call it theft, we call it might,
Long shadows cast in the desert light,
When flags go up and the pipelines flow—
That’s just how empires grow.
(Verse 2)
Fields once quiet, now roaring loud,
Helicopters part the clouds,
Maps get redrawn overnight,
Signed in shadow, sealed in might.
Refineries glow like city suns,
Deals get made behind loaded guns,
You can pray for mercy, you can stand your ground—
But the drums of industry drown the sound.
(Pre-Chorus)
We don’t whisper, we don’t beg,
We move like kings across the chessboard’s edge,
From coast to coast, from dune to plain,
We harvest fire from the vein.
(Chorus)
Stars and iron, side by side,
Rolling in like the turning tide,
Oil and land beneath our claim,
Power’s the oldest game.
You say we conquer, you say we steal,
But strength is the only truth that’s real,
When jets scream low and the warships glow—
That’s just how empires grow.
(Bridge – soulful, stripped back)
Mothers cry in the midnight heat,
Children watching armored feet,
Somewhere a preacher calls it fate,
Somewhere a banker counts the rate.
Are we saviors? Are we thieves?
Depends on who gets to believe,
But the wells keep pumping, the tanks roll on—
Right or wrong is gone by dawn.
(Breakdown)
America’s thunder on the sea,
Germany’s steel in the infantry,
Two great powers, cold and grand,
Writing law across the sand.
(Final Chorus – bigger, emotional)
Stars and iron, hearts of stone,
Claiming ground that’s not our own,
Oil like blood beneath the sky,
Empires never ask why.
You call it cruel, you call it fate,
We call it power, we call it state,
When the smoke clears slow and the sirens blow—
That’s just how empires grow.
(Outro)
And when the last well’s running dry,
And the flags are fading from the sky,
Will they curse our name in the wind’s cold hand?
Or say we ruled the world we planned?
