Suite For The Souls Of Our Enemies (part I Hammer And Sickle) (Barnabas)

Late at night I used to sit Alone, for one last cigarette Brooding over what's to come What in God's name have we done? Missiles springing up like weeds Doomsday subs patrol the seas East and west are poised to kill While me and Igor pay the bill The war machine will never stop Dogs will fight until they drop From Poland to Afghanistan A menace to the common man But what about the little men Who have no recourse given them It seems unlikely they're the ones Whose fingers twitch on willing guns Little man, my enemy What makes you so much worse than me? Could it be we're all the same Small fry in a larger game I believe the one to blame Plans his schemes in bitter flames Whose soldiers crushed the bourgeousie To form their own plutocracy Stalin, Trotsky, Marx and Lenin Scorned the blessed hope from heaven Pompous men with lofty schemes They gnash their teeth with futile screams But now their godless legacy Has festered long across the sea Implanted in the tender youth They come to know the lie as truth So Holy Father hear my cry For untold millions doomed to die Without You, when the rockets roar Hurling them through satan's door Late at night I sit and pray Not always certain what to say "Peace on earth, goodwill to men" ? Or "crush them Lord, they're better dead"?