Naughts and crosses, baby blue
Bullets singing a hymn for you
Hide in holes or die without clue
Hush now, you don’t matter
The government, mad as a hatter
Takes up its hammer to shatter
Your independent point of view
Realpolitik now taking shape
Arson, murder, arson, rape
Dry blood on your videotape
Cry havoc and dead bones rattle
Lying naked in a political battle
Hush, now don’t you prattle
For baby there is no escape
And now the country out of grip
All we do is shoot from the hip
Bloodied hands wring from the crib
So rest in peace all those who died
Rest awhile on the leeward side
But the partisan's words bona fide
Sings an anthem of the cartridge clip.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Tictactoe...Down You Go.
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4 comments:
good one...in your face, song like. could imagine the music to it, funky, a bit alt rock-ish... smart. 8)
alt rock-ish, eh? u got me thinking something...
Good hard-hitting political poem.
@ what's in a name
wow, u alliterated twice:)...ur a natural poet:p.
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