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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required four sweet smiling babies on the front page of the paper four sweet little lives that are no more My throat is tight My hands are clenched My heart is broken My eyes flood as my knees hit the floor How in the hell could there even be an explanation Could the white dope really bring a man so low the pretty lady on the TV says it's a complicated situation and a bunch of other crap that I don't want to know Held in the arms they loved and trusted Thrown some eighty feet into the bay I'm bitter disillusioned and disgusted and I'm not the only one who feels that way My God it's so damn hard to keep believing Is this the way you really meant for it to be It's getting dark - a half an hour past grieving Lets have a heart to heart just you and me I've found this big black book of contradictions Though I like what the red letters have to say I hope I have the strength of my convictions but what the hell is free will anyway It's easy now to believe in the devil It's good to have some where to put the blame but I can't keep from thinking we're the trouble If we don't own up, How can we ever change I want to know if you're tight with the preacher Who tells us about peace and love and hell Have you got some connection with the teacher who teaches us just how to hate and kill This here geopolitical situation is a little more than greedy cold and hard What's all this talk about hell and damnation There's plenty of that right here in my back yard where four sweet smiling babies are on the front page of the paper three so far have washed up on the shore I guess there must be hell fire and damnation Cause there just has to be a heaven for those four Author's Comments : This is for those babies, and God.
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