Sortakinda Dead

Why bother naming babies in the foreign land Sarin gas is not a Happy Birthday gift or plan No way to play, no party list to live or die by Syria is no kind of place for children's games No Happy Birthday cakes but many planes Full of surprises with dire consequences Falling from the sky with great precision Not with balloons but barrel bombs it rains Down comes the pain for babies endings Chlorine gas to bleach the level playing field Containers full of dynamite and nails Shrapnel is no toy for children in a war Metal fragments make them just as dead As when the sarin fell on them They sortakinda have the same effect Why have a name when getting outta bed Why bother naming babies in the foreign land Why bother being born to die again That sortakinda does not matter what you said When dead is dead