War and Piss

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Heard somebody say, they want a war.
To bomb our neighbours,
Put heads, in a jar.

I turned to look, who could it be?
That bays for death?
Not Father, not me.

Ah! I forgot, Father was shot.
A few times over,
By a similar despot.

So much has changed, in sixty years.
We love no more.
And are a sum of our fears.

Are you doing right? Will it make Him proud?
To see you piss blood. 
On his tri-coloured shroud.

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