Three bold colours ride the wind and cry out to their newfound kin
To rain down their wrath and quench this thirsty sin
Two orange explosions against a blue sky are thus replicated millions of times
And rained down on a landscape or sorrow-stricken, spellbound eyes
One soft cry from the desert's oily womb, drowned out by a sonic boom
May she rain down her sorrow like these bombs rain down her doom
They've got power on paper and hostages in citizens
At the point of a gun and at the point of a pen
Since when? And for how long will we let
The ink of the few dictate the fate of so many men and women?
We gotta do more than begin to wonder
They stamp your name on every one of those bloody blunders
They may seem quiet, but they're so immense
Those bombs won't always be safely distant thunder
But there's one huge reason why we want peace
But it's so profound that, of it, I can hardly speak
And, for it, I don't intend to speak
A flag is burned, a lesson's learned
All those hateful conventions have been deeply discerned
And this multitude of young minds are on looking
A flag is flown, a lesson's ignored
By a multitude of eyes desensitized and bored
From too many years of on looking