To some a war may be perverse,
A fact I understand quite well.
For some may die or even worse,
A soul may be condemned to hell.
A fact I understand quite well,
A war is not a child’s game;
When screaming men are sent to hell
They look for someone else to blame.
A war is not a children's game,
When kings send soldiers to their death.
They look for someone else to blame;
They cast aspersions with each breath.
When kings send soldiers to their death,
They think not who will pay the price.
They cast aspersions with each breath.
They’re selling souls like merchandise.
They think not who will pay the price;
They think not of the hungry child
They’re selling souls like merchandise;
They only act with hearts gone wild.
They think not of the hungry child
With swollen gut and belly aches.
They only act with hearts gone wild.
To cover up their own mistakes.
With swollen gut and belly aches,
The women too must pay the price
To cover up their own mistakes
They bear a child of sacrifice.
The women too must pay the price
Those wives and daughters left alone
They bear a child of sacrifice,
A price that love cannot atone.
Those wives and daughters left alone
For some may die or even worse.
A price that love cannot atone,
To some a war may be perverse.














with love & light~ Desire~*~









I don't really think you're ever in danger of being challenged though!~ you rock!!







78 old applause
