Enemy boots splinter boards
Leave muddy prints in loamy soil
Doors ajar, chairs overturned
Homes of those that won't return
Build a statue for dead
Those who died for others bread
Bodies bloodied, lying still
A crimson slick, a golden till
On flaming pyres
Sifting through the ash and bone
Bodies burn
Lay you down in a bed of stone
The victors still take all the spoils
From foreign wars for guns and oil
Most live lives of dreary toil
Tending pots that never boil
March across the burning plain
Displaced masses wandering
Lives crushed, homes on fire
Lungs filled with smoke and ire
On flaming pyres
Sifting through the ash and bone
Bodies burn
Lay you down in a bed of stone