THE NEWS
Here I sit
Dumbfounded by the news
More children dead
Everyone's got the blues
More bombs a-dropping
By fours and threes and twos
Cluster fucking the monuments
Nothing else to choose
Rockets flying in the night
Like fireflies in cruise
Landing like a meteor
On Muslims, Christians and Jews
Hiding on a mountain top
Out in plain clear sight
The children there are dying
Like a garden struck by blight
Our people wring our hands and say
“I wish we knew a way
To stop the slaughter of innocence.
America saves the day!”
But the bombs are made in Jersey
The rocket parts from Lowes
We sell them to our customers
This is the Life we chose
But rockets made from steel and blood
Have a way of turning back
And striking down the blacksmith
We're giving, they're giving back.
Someday Mom will haul us in
And wash behind our ears
And tell us not to fight so much
While drying off our tears
But someday is so far away
And Mom is sleeping sound
We'll have to make a lot of noise
To bring Her from the ground
And the Hindus have a story
About waking Mom too rough
She doesn't like to rise too soon
She kicks and hits and stuff
So perhaps this is Her rising
And the time to come in soon
I'll light a candle for the kids
And watch the shining moon.
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