The shots of the gun
The worry of who's won
Not to mention the engines that run
Or when this will all be done
The cameras that click
The clocks that tick
The stomachs running sick
Which one will be Death's next pick
The assembly of tanks
The turning of cranks
The stocks and the banks
The metals going clank
The artillery shells flying high
The many ideals that die
The babies that cry
And the end never draws nigh!
These battles, the war
Who do they fight for
Who is keeping score
And why do they want more
Cities, countries, tearing apart at the seam
Even victory tastes not as sweet as cream
Whatever can be done for them to redeem....
The fires, the blasts, the light
For the unprepared this is quite a sight
The soldiers press on with all their might
All this to see who is right.
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