Music and lyrics: Roy Harper
Well I'm sick to the teeth of the news on the screen
of the Hezbollah scum and Jihad the obscene
whose men plant the bombs and then live feeling free
to watch women and children be killed on TV.
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 diabolical god
selling himself as a two-bit Macbeth
as the expert in sentencing cousins to death
And what kind of god can this be anyway
that you have to prostrate to it 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 women in veils walking paces behind
doesn't sit easy in my kind of mind
it speaks of oppression and no other choice
than rigid compliance with the loudest voice
underneath the black cloud of Islam
And 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
And words that are written are all here to stay
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 Jehova's blind witlessnesses
with your feet in the door of the deepest abyss
which is underneath, which is underneath,
which is underneath the Black Cloud Of Islam
Sounds too critical of the Religion Of Pieces?
'We Were Lined Up and Shot'
Details are emerging about the horrific ordeals faced by many of the victims of the Mumbai atrocities: Mumbai family tells ordeal.
‘The terrorists then rounded up anyone alive (about 20 people) and made them climb the service staircase to the 19th floor. On reaching the 18th floor landing they made the people line up against a wall.
‘One terrorist then positioned himself on the staircase going up from the landing and the other on the staircase going down from the landing.
‘Then, in a scene right out of the Holocaust, they simultaneously opened fire on the people. My father was towards the centre of the line with his two friends on either side. Out of reflex, or presence of mind, he ducked as soon as the firing began.
‘One bullet grazed his neck, and he fell to the floor as his two friends and several other bodies piled on top of him. The terrorists then pumped another series of bullets into the heap of bodies to finish the job.
‘This time a bullet hit my father in the back hip. Bent almost in double, crushed by the weight of the bodies above him, and suffocating in the torrent of blood rushing down on him from the various bodies my father held on for 10 minutes while the terrorists left the area.
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