Two thousand undertakers,
politicians, and fakers,
the butchers, and the bakers,
and candle-stick makers,

Two thousand burning crosses
bearing silent witness for
the graves of heavy losses
dead in holy war

Two thousand hangmen style
the nooses in pretty loops,
to hang our young soldiers, while
supporting the troops

Our leaders quick to praise the dead,
and drape themselves with the rag,
the bone-white,
drowned-blue,
blood--red,
American Flag,

Ignorant of their rancour
and with souls to save, (enslave),
our leaders speak
only of the brave
forgetting there's no rank or
station in the grave.

With their hands on the triggers,
there, standing ready to kill,
with two thousand gravediggers
with ready graves to fill...

 
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