there’s no magic words
to protect you from the hurt
there’s no magic words
there’s just a lot of dirt
there’s no magic words
to cover up the lies
there’s no magic words
for the empty in their eyes
there’s no magic words
just try to stay real
keep your people close
and take the time to heal
by Richard W. Bray
Washing out the spot
That never goes away
How many children
Did you kill today?
Staring at the basin
In all your distress
What happens in your head
Is anybody’s guess
Now you’re making speeches
Reciting practiced lies
I wonder what’s behind
The empty in your eyes
Where does it come from?
The hunger that devours
Destroying whole countries
For a little taste of Power
Sing a song of freedom
Sing a song of war
The happy, hearty hegemon
Hears the eagle roar
He will cheer to loose the hounds
But he simply can’t be found
With the boots that hit the ground
Sing of liberation
Sing a song of war
Intrepid chairborne ranger
Like a strapping rogue of yore
But he’ll never be around
When the guns and missiles pound
Razing village to the ground
Sing of credibility Sing a song of war
Gallant think tank warrior
Is manly to the core
In pools of blood they drown
As he buys another round
With his dirty, ill-gained Crown
You can send a man to war
Make him watch his buddies die
Don’t even say what they died for
You can even make him cry
You can cut all his rations
Down to the nitty-gritty
But the last thing a man wants
Is pity
You can send his job away
Cut his salary in half
You can abuse him every day
You can have yourself a laugh
You can take away his home
And brutalize his city
But the last thing a man wants
Is pity
Take the country that he loves
And starve it half to death
You can give his heart a shove
You can steal his dying breath
You can trample on his pride
And make his whole world shitty
But the last thing a man wants
Is pity