The Myrrors

Cast away across this ancient land
The desert heat burns the Eastern sand
Fever falls and it starts to take hold
Asphalt blood worth its weight in gold

The battle cries echo through the stones
A thousand men and children far from home
Fighting for them that would not fight
Forsake all concepts of what's wrong & right

History repeats or so the prophecies say
Tomorrow's bloodshed is our failures today
No man raising up his hands in protest
To think we thought our government knew best

Painting devils on the eyes of our youth
So many words spoken & yet so little truth
Too much talk but when will you move
It's at the point where we have little to lose

And they crest the hill so savage & wild
Scorching the land & every woman & child
Through the deserts they slip into the night
And they die