I was born many years ago – after the war to end all war
Poppies grew upon the graves – of the ones who died so brave
Fighting over little bits of land – across the ocean they made a stand
The battles they claimed for ever more – never no need to fight another war
So what’s the matter (wrong) with peace today?
Why can’t we find a peaceful way? - Why these troops all bearing arms?
Weapons meant to cause great harm? - Didn’t we all agree one time?
Killing each other was too (so) unkind?
We’d raise our children peacefully?
All the world in harmony?
I know we meant it – but it must have slipped our minds
Then war brings such profits to the corporate bottom line
Now we call it terrorist - and each other by that name
Car bomb or warplane – the children die just the same
I was born many years ago – after the war to end all war
Weeds now grow where poppies were – because we’re fighting another war
All the riches we spend on arms – while we leave so many to starve
May the leaders go to hell – for breaking faith with the ones who fell
Poppies grew upon the graves – of the ones who died so brave
Fighting over little bits of land – across the ocean they made a stand
The battles they claimed for ever more – never no need to fight another war
So what’s the matter (wrong) with peace today?
Why can’t we find a peaceful way? - Why these troops all bearing arms?
Weapons meant to cause great harm? - Didn’t we all agree one time?
Killing each other was too (so) unkind?
We’d raise our children peacefully?
All the world in harmony?
I know we meant it – but it must have slipped our minds
Then war brings such profits to the corporate bottom line
Now we call it terrorist - and each other by that name
Car bomb or warplane – the children die just the same
I was born many years ago – after the war to end all war
Weeds now grow where poppies were – because we’re fighting another war
All the riches we spend on arms – while we leave so many to starve
May the leaders go to hell – for breaking faith with the ones who fell
inviata da Bartleby - 5/5/2011 - 10:06
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Album “Angry Old Man”
“Autobomba o aereo da guerra, non c’è differenza: i bambini muoiono proprio nello stesso modo”.
Una riflessione sulla guerra non proprio comune per un vecchietto americano che si è vissuto l’11 settembre…
Alla faccia dei distinguo tra guerra convenzionale, guerra asimmetrica, terrorismo ed altre formule del genere che lasciano spesso il tempo che trovano, essendo definitorie di un unico fenomeno: la guerra.