Sheets of cold rain pour down from the clouds,
covering the sullen, black dressed mourning crowds.
Row after row of fresh looking white crosses,
Has there been anything gained from these terrible losses?

It's just one more ceremony, another farewell,
to more brave young men who couldn't make it through hell.
You listen to the speeches and the notes of the dirge,
And through every moment, there's not but a surge...

...of emotion, of morals, of human expression.
Just an unstoppable combat obsession.
"It's just part of the game" that's what you say,
"we must keep fighting on until we win the day!"

We thought you would free us, we bought into the speech,
You made us believe a better life was in reach.
So we went to the polls and chose you as the one,
setting up a disaster that can't be undone.

There can be no excuses now, don't even bother,
You sealed our fate like lambs to the slaughter.
You think you're a leader, you think you're a man?
We should have stopped this before it even began.

The war drums were beating, you just had to listen,
you were committed to the cause, a slave to the mission.
"Get me the guns, get me the ammo,
get me the tanks, the helmets, the camo!"

There's no peace in your mind, just perpetual war,
got to end all the conflict, got to settle the score.
There's no second guessing, no restraint and no waiting,
there's no need for diplomacy or endless debating.

There's only the guns going off in the shadows,
only the soldiers running fresh to the battle.
And as you gaze upon the river of blood on the floor,
all you think to yourself is "I got to have more."

How many night raids and bombs will it take,
until you think "maybe I made a mistake..."?
How many body bags,  how many graves,
before you conisder the way you behave?
  
There may be an escape here,a pathway to peace.
Would we ever see it if the cannons don't cease?
But you'd never want a truce, couldn't handle the silence,
you need the action, the marching, the violence.

No longer human, you're a terrible beast,
there's famine all around you, but you've got the feast.
You need the caviar, the champagne, the steak,
who cares about the poor souls you have to break?

The wounds pile up, the true reality stuns,
but you're numb to it all: "Just bring me more guns!"
Is there any sanity left do you figure,
when you've got your hand permanently stuck on the trigger?

The mightiest soldier, the general, the king,
but inside your heart lay this terrible thing.
The conscience is absent, there's a dry empty soul,
and a man who is primal and out of control.

There's no sense of calm or peace in your heart,
you're just patiently waiting for the next engagement to start,
Great in the theater, but no good as an actor,
There's no sense of justice, no morality factor.

A wave of change is approaching, my friend, you've been marked,
but still you just sit there in the shadowy dark,
You choose to ignore it, absorbed by your pride,
But they won't go away now, there's thousands outside.

They're sick of living in danger, of living in peril.
they're sick of the mortars, the guns and the barrels.
They've set up a cleansing to get rid of the cancer,
and I don't think they're going to take no for an answer.

You may sit there and think me a fool.
because I point out all the flaws in your rules,
but I guarantee the moment they burst through the doors,
the last shot, the very last death..will be yours.