O poor old you, my dear old Mr C,
Was this world never meant for peaceful men?
They will not let you live in peace and see
What happens if we trust ourselves again.
They're shaking swords and baying for some blood,
They don't care who is innocent of guilt,
They only want to bathe beneath the flood,
Of all the blood that ever has been spilt.
We're sacrificial lambs beneath the press
That presses down on all the good in us,
And puts us all in states of fear and stress,
Until we burst like devils drowned in puss.
I do not understand, and never will...
What happened to the words "Thou shalt not kill."?
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