oh sweet war i implore you more and i am still sure that you give me the shovel to dig my own grave to explore wearing these clothes of death for the sweet war
now hand me the torch Prometheus while we curse the meat but we eat the flesh give us this day our holy bread the element of fire thus to pave the way for mankind
oh what cherry red autumn leaves that flicker like a flame upon the stiff branches of the maple trees bursting with brown maple sap that rest upon the hillsides of Providence