Feeding on the tension
Boiling all around
Truth or propaganda
Monuments burn down
Searching for a beacon
An anchor to behold
But in the open market
Even sellers will be sold
I found a bayonet
In brackish water
A relic from the war
A reminder of the slaughter
Sunning on the ruins
Zealots on parade
Their cheerleaders are all ringers
Preening in the shade
Marching with the masses
Corpses on display
Why disguise the punch line
When their maker has been made
I found a bayonet
In brackish water
A relic from the war
A reminder of the slaughter
Truth isn't static
It struggles like the wind
And if death is the price of paradise
Then death is not the end