...

The modern spoils of war
Refugees at your door
We sacrifice our own people
For them to land on our shore...

They cry of desperation
But marching with their demands,
While the working man grows restless
With nothing in his hand...

It's governments of evil
Something I'll never understand
Where they claim all are equal
But heard more from foreign land...

It's the pinnacle of the steeple
The western people's last stand
Our faith taught us not to be evil
But after all good and bad go hand in hand...


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