Bomb the shit out of them
Bomb the fuck out of them
Bomb them to kingdom
Come, come , come
Poppies burn
Sinew flies
Bones splinter…
Bloody oil oozes from your pores
You lap it up, lap it up, lap it up.
Charred children smolder as you
Let the bombs fall…
Let the bombs fall…
You bomb the shit out of them
Bomb the fuck out of them
Bomb them to kingdom
Come, come, come
No time to talk
No time for peace
No time to think
No time for logic
No time for time
You won't talk it out.
You won't work it out.
You
War mongers
War managers
War makers
War Whores
War lovers…
Talk is cheap,
And you only want the best.
Through your hands
Money flows
grab it up, grab it all
grab it all.
Your blood soaked money flows
Because you bomb the shit out of them
Bomb the shit out of them
Bomb the fuck out of them
Bomb them to kingdom
Come, come , come
That will show them.
That will show them…
Them Them Them
Bomb the shit out of them
Them Them Them
Bomb the fuck out of them
Them Them Them
Bomb them to kingdom
Come, come , come…
Recipe: There is no recipe to go with this poem.
I wrote this in the middle of the night and frankly, was pretty jarred by what I typed. I reread it and get chills. I don't even know what else to say, so I'll leave you with the words of Joseph Pintauro and Jimi Hendrix:
"All we ask O Lord is to be safe from the rain just warm enough in winter to watch the snow with a smile/enough to eat so our hunger will not turn us to angry beasts & sanity enough to make a justice that will not kill our love of life." -Joseph Pintauro
"When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace." -Jimi Hendrix
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