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Do Not Sing Songs Do not sing of victory. How is death tidings of joy? What trumpets will empty coffins, Unzip body bags and bring out life? What notes are so sweet As to return souls to an earthly dance? Your victory melody buries men Who cannot step out of their dying. Your war has left an empty hall. Do not fill that space with lying music. Telling the lost they have won. For songs of victory fall on dead ears. Espanola, New Mexico We are Americas' top drug city, but nobody will hear our cries, We are filled with distortion, perversion, and satanism, but nobody will open up their eyes, We have created our own gods and godesses, and idols out of sand, We are located in the Southwest United States, just north of an Enchanted Land, Our children are hooked on poison, young drug addict kids who are gone, Our families work Los Alamos National Labs, the satanic place that created the nuclear bomb, Our babies are raped and molested by family members retired from the C.I.A. They grow up and tell their parents, And their fathers smile, And tell them not to say anything, that it is now too late, We have the highest overdose rate in the nation per capita, 10,000 people is our size, The men here pimp off their wives and kids, and teach them how to take orders from organized crime, There is a war going on, A war that Americans have come to hate, But what about the war going on at our countries' borders, That is making prisoners of people in the Southwest states, My name is Silas Joseph, I am a still birth child, whose heart stopped beating at 8 months old, I always thank my Lord that He didn't allow me to be born in a world that is so heartless and cold. Terror This war on terror will be our own undoing. The western world, like Donald Duck with a chainsaw has gone berserk cutting down all the trees in search of a few pesky squirrels. And now the dust is flying but mostly from our own wretched machine. And shit is falling down on us from those occupied branches above and because we're an angry duck, more action now seems somehow justified, even necessary. Damn the squirrels, we say in our rage and down come the beautiful trees we don't care how but we too shall suffer their loss. Soon there will be no shade and like the bumper-sticker says, we are making enemies faster than we can kill them. |