A soldier stands on a mound of the dead
Cities burnt, a country in shreds
In this end no peace is had
A business man smiles, a pen in hand
“In life” he says “we all understand
These pawns are a mean to an end”
Son of Violence forgetting your roots
You think you have nothing to lose
Son of War this wicked empire
Your heritage sings in fire
A mother wails on the grave of a child
Lost for a “higher cause”
A choir of screams hopeful and wild
With no answer from her gods
A poor man fights for a scrap or a bone
The poor man fights for water and a home
The business man laughs, a coat on his back
In an office big and warm
“These folks” he says, “the traits that they lack
Are what bring them to harm.”
Son of Violence forgetting your roots
You think you have nothing to lose
Son of War this wicked empire
Your heritage sings in fire
Son of Hate you spread the seeds
Of the downfall that you will reap
Son of Pride your ancestry burns
With the lessons that you will learn
The poor man learns to buck and to fight
Against the endless storm
The mother finds in herself a new light
The soldier left to ponder and sit
To think on peace and war
The business man cries “this can't be it”
When the reaper’s at his door