O' the Wicked Lies

WARMONGERS I heard we lost another brother His body blown apart IED’s no heart What the hell, there isn’t even a war Searching for body parts amongst the blood and gore Send him home as a hero All boxes ticked by the bureau Another widow, grieving parents, a son and a daughter Was anything worth it, this aimless slaughter Not our country, but, we invade Everyone one of us getting played Has any country gone straight after we leave O’ the wicked lies the bureaus weave Soon as I can I’m buying my way out Lose my pension no doubt I won’t be watching the home news The bureau dropping the clues We need to invade for our own cause Fool those who stand by and applause As we send another dead brother or sister home The bureau suffering from warmonger syndrome Not counting the dead or to our country the bloody cost For them one day retired, their hands washed The price we pay for our arrogance Leaving nothing behind, but a bad inheritance O’ the wicked lies the bureaus weave O’ the wicked lies the bureaus weave O’ the wicked lies the bureaus weave Indiana Shaw . . . : /