Dirt moist with blood and damp sickness of heart
The air rang with passion, now silence doth choke
All savage aggressions, fallen apart
Peace, a thin cloth stretched tightly over swollen greed
Rips stitch by stitch, splitting at the seams
Endless bodies growl, melded and bound by raw need
Longing quenched with pride's flowing streams
Will turn salty on the tongue
But pushing boarders, like a smooth faced child
Is an ancient song, backwards and forwards sung
It's the waning moon and the bodies piled
To black out stars, man's power is none
So get out of Versailles and go grab your gun
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