The train now standing on platform four,

What will you do when the gas taps turn?

Where will you be when the bodies burn?

Will you just watch as the cattle trucks roll by?

Pretend it isn't happening? Turn a blind eye?

See the army convoys quietly passing by?

Heard the helicopters in your little bit of sky?

Have you seen the squad cars packed with boys in blue?

Have you ever wondered what they're there to do?

Pictures in the paper of soldiers in the street,

Pictures in the history books of rotting human meat.

Auschwitz's now a tourist spot for the goggle eyed to pry,

Still in working order just for you and I.

Photos of the victims, of gas, of gun, of bomb,

Inheritance of violence in the bookshelves of your home.

Don't wait for it to come to you, cos come it surely will,