Man vs. Man at each other's necks
Eight and a half million living now wrecked.
Hero defined as a medal and a grave.
How many souls did those deep pockets save?
So by the end, of those lasting four years,
Many men fought while living in fear.
Did action gain comfort for all your misdeeds,
Cutting and cropping to get what you need.
What does choice mean to men that have all?
Is it just a lark, a game of cup and ball?
Or is it power that comes into play,
To corrupt younger minds and all that they say?
Will the wealth of the world help in the end,
When you're drowning in the ashes of a million dead men?
Your lily-eyed soldiers won't keep you afloat,
As you sink down slowly on your small lonely boat.
So while you sit and wait at those pearly white gates,
Your judgment now chosen, thus sealing your fate.
Blind, controlled and tortured by all those you wronged,
The master now puppet, in hell you belong.