War is an antique invention,
But unlike an antique the value is worthless,
The only valuable assets are lost,
We **** and ****** the brains of souls and hearts,
Guts, blood, **** and ****,
Bones, flesh, teeth and nails,
All the arms and legs of death around,
Bodies challenged to decay under the suns' rays,
War is an antique invention.

War is an antique invention,
And just like an antique it's passed its sell-by date,
The only date to know; the funeral,
We ****, ****** and bury the evidence,
Mud, moss, grass and sand,
Six feet underground,
All the arms and legs stuffed in coffins,
Bodies challenged to rot and waste away like tears,
War is an antique invention.