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"?