Over of passion, lust or morality. That foul council

Over in boot camp,

The boys were trained,

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A patriotic pride and bigotry,

Were hardwired in their brains.

Class, creed and race,

Mean nothing to the queen,

They are just foolish comrades,

Which can be fed to the machine.

 

Men are burdened with rockets,

By back and by barrow,

They know that if they fail,

They’ll be shot down to the marrow.

Soldiers lay restless in the soil,

Feeling nothing but the damp,

For if the guns don’t start working,

They’ll fall victim of the panzerkampf.

Amongst the trenches,

They’re pale and grim,

The Reaper is inviting,

Now that they’ve forgotten Him.

They raise their weapons,

And with a ruthless cry,

The apes are martyred,

All men must die.

 

Over out in ‘Nam,

Apaches fly in packs of ten,

But the pilots run thin,

As python and fever wipe out the men.

Many are decommissioned,

You just wouldn’t understand,

Their minds have been shattered,

You don’t get it- you weren’t there, man!

 

 

Steve, George and Dave

Roast in the Nevada sun,

George wanted to die with honour,

Not by the fate of his own gun.

The two men sit in silence,

For their throats were too parched to speak,

Dave was the first to go, before Steve

Lay fried, stiff and weak.

 

Expendable and worthless,

No grave, coffin or bier,

After the bodies start to rot,

It’s like they were never here.

There will
not be a funeral,

No crosses or a bed of rose,

The millions of forgotten lives,

Were disposable, but still called heroes.

 

The politicians fight all day long,

No sense of what is and what should be,

While the soldiers fight for no one’s sake,

No sense of passion, lust or morality.

That foul council of leeches,

Want both silence and bedlam,

To survive you must cut the bites,

And then suck out the venom.

 

In the battle room,

The generals dumbly speak,

Their silent words,

Echo around their clique.

The PM has got his hands full,

One gripping the half-empty drink,

The other pressing the “kill” button,

His head’s too big to think.

 

Oh, well there it goes,

The missiles begin to rise,

The nuclear hatred

Starts to poison the hopeless skies.

In the napalm county

A city slowly burns,

A mother holds her dying child,

But no one is concerned.

 

The choir of the dead

Catches souls as they fall,

For they shall bring back peace,

And bring back justice for all.

The angels softly sing,

Verses in an ancient tongue,

An unorthodox psalmody,

Helps undo the deathly wrong.

 

Bright lights flashing down,

From the heavens up above,

God- his voice is soothing-

“Show my world some love!”

Politicians on their knees,

Repent what they’ve done,

In the ashes lay Gideon’s book,

They open it at page 1.

But it was much too late,

For those bright lights were the bombs,

Atomic futility,

The human race is run.

After cycles of turmoil,

What lesson has been learned?

There will not be a second chance,

Nobody wins; everybody burns.