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(inspired by simon & garfunkel and george walker bush)
Hello fellows, my old friends,
we’ve got to go to war again.
Because in visions softly creeping
our purifying wings are weeping
and the vision that was planted in my mind
still remains within the sound of violence.
In honest dreams I walked alone,
saw burning cities and sandstorms
amidst shattered, bursting homes,
I wandered over scattered stones,
my eyes dazzled by the flashes of exploding bombs
that underline the sound of the overture of violence.
And on the TV-screen I saw
millions of people, maybe more.
People hearing without thinking,
people looking without seeing.
Seeing evidence that never withstand the truth,
just a few dared to disturb the sound of violence.
"Fellows, we shall not prevail
fight for our country, do not fail.
Obey my words so I might lead you,
take my hands let me protect you."
And like heavy raindrops my words fell
onto the fertile soil of stupidity and violence.
And the people bowed and prayed
to the violent god they made
and his wings unleashed his warning,
destroying, mutilating, harming,
as he said “These are sacrifices in a high calling”
and freedom is falling to the sound of violence.
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