Ain't no "why" once flak and bone fly.
The fog of war. The blinded crowd.
Brassy anthems play out, proud.
Drums beat out the same old call:
"Embrace with us the steel rainfall".
Stars and spangles fade to gray.
Were they colored yesterday?
Once again the wheel comes 'round.
The blood of good men feeds the ground
While with ingenious sleight of hand
Kings and generals make their stand
And with a patriarchal frown
They lock the whole damn kingdom down.
The innocents that we would free
Sleep beneath a symphony
Of missiles and artillery
While an arrogant cacophony
Of procedural propriety
Hides our culpability.