And the men, in uniform, blandly saying,
that sad as it is, it's a fact of war, collateral damage.
Sweet child playing, sweet child laying, crying, dying,
Victim of madness and chance,
Now gone.
The morning was quiet, there was naught in the air,
to tell of the afternoon despair,
when the silence was cracked by a thunderous roll
of shrapnel, fire and phosphorant rain.
Sudden, all around with agonised screams,
desperate searching by frantic half means.
Hope against hope, extinguished dreams.
Anger and rage, mingled with vengeance demand.
And the men, in uniform, blandly saying (always blandly saying),
that sad as it is, it's a fact of war, just collateral damage.
Sweet child playing, sweet child laying, crying, dying,
Victim of madness and chance,
Now gone.
that sad as it is, it's a fact of war, collateral damage.
Sweet child playing, sweet child laying, crying, dying,
Victim of madness and chance,
Now gone.
The morning was quiet, there was naught in the air,
to tell of the afternoon despair,
when the silence was cracked by a thunderous roll
of shrapnel, fire and phosphorant rain.
Sudden, all around with agonised screams,
desperate searching by frantic half means.
Hope against hope, extinguished dreams.
Anger and rage, mingled with vengeance demand.
And the men, in uniform, blandly saying (always blandly saying),
that sad as it is, it's a fact of war, just collateral damage.
Sweet child playing, sweet child laying, crying, dying,
Victim of madness and chance,
Now gone.
Dedicated to fellow Australian, Julian Assange, held incarcerated for many years, and facing 175 years in a U.S. if extradited, for the crime of revealing 'collateral damage' of war.
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