Monday, March 16, 2009

The Used


Will the children cry,
When their mother dies?
A lifetime of servitude
Their minds too feeble


A symphony of steel
Disharmonic death waits
The abyss in their eyes
The fire in their hearts


A gun in hand
Ordered shoot to kill
Play tag with the corpses
And dance with the dead


Rest their heads down
Then they cry
They never ask
The reason why


Pour blood in their bottles
Place knives in their pockets
Let the virus plague their minds
Minions of Revolution

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