When we grow older,
Our hair will be grey,
Generations will fall,
But we'll be OK,
Because we had it all.

By all I mean nothing,
We dealt with the mess,
The fall from grace,
The relentless stress,
A decayed human race.

We took all the bullets,
We didn't have the vest,
Told we had failed,
We hadn't tried our best,
To stop the blood that entailed.