In a free land, we watch our victories,
k**ing our annoyances as the troops march away.
We talk of no more, for there's a price to pay.
In a free land, children starve and are beaten to d**h.
We rape when we feel, and we take no sh**.
In decisive calm, mediated for viewing pleasure,
we cherish revenge to the sound of war.
This is not make believe.
This is so f**ing real.
Dead mothers still there, dead brothers still there, dead children still there.
Now do you believe?
In a course of annihilation, in a fervor of terror to take control of who we are,
d**h by design, a plan of war.
This is not make believe, this is so f**ing real.
This is war.