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Dubya Dubya Aye Aye Aye
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NINE POEMS They're fighting us,
We're fighting them.
remember now how it began,
We may not be here when it ends
nor have the time to make amends.
For now MARCH ON
the battle cry!
Our comfortable commanders lie.
They tell us how the heathens die
a tooth for tooth, an eye for eye.
So arm in arm
we arm our selves
and place our dreams upon the shelves
to gather dust and ner be held
by all the children bled and felled.
The damage done, all hope too late,
Our Masters now are at the gates.
The machinations rend and rip
March on, March on
straight towards our crypt.
