Within homecoming flames
And withering leaves,
Doors are opened wide
To let in a freezing tide.

As warmth covers our food and will
The food we eat becomes our ****,
Living through life’s boundless wonders
And killing through our blind blunders.

Giving thanks for lives we’ve won,
And taking them away when we’re done.
Why not feel pride in our job?
after all, our mentality is that of a mob.