Wet mud and soil and in the fray, in the barrage of bullets, He stands triumphantly.
His allies are dead, His family are lost to him. Behind him a flag waves and Between the stripes and stars, Splatters of blood soak the cloth.
Over the ocean, they hold the flag high. For as the father of their country sits in an office young men and woman die for him. The flag of red, blue and white. A symbol of patriotism to some.
To others though, The flag waves blood, suffocation and bone. Even those that hold it high.
For as the saliva of the war-hungry man Drips from his lips, And as the rotten words sprout from his pungent tongue, Soldiers die with guns at their hips And now the clock with hands on 12 is finally rung.