Even
God forsakes this dismal place
preferring instead to show his face  in the bistros, at the music halls or the cinema shows,
they have a name for it,
Candy floss coating on *******.

I mean,
I'd have figured it out long ago that his plan was to blow us away,
on these battlefields no angel shields us from starvation and death, but I was slow, saving my breath, wearing my heart on my sleeve.

I believe the experiment was doomed from the start,
give man a heart and the ******* will break it.
the bankers will take it,
collaterall,
offset against the main bet which is a debt for us all.

Stood against the pock marked wall, the rifles at attention,
good God look at them all, but of course he's at the cirque de soleil drinking champagne and how does he feel?
******' fabulous.