On The Streets of Baghdad | 
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| Sirens sound out, a suicide bomber, six lie dead in a local market;
medics rush in, aide ready to give, to those lying on the floor.
The breath of life, it no longer lingers, slips away leaving a lifeless form;
cries in the street, for loved ones now gone, acts of a madman no more.
Oh! Glory hangs, into ribbons now torn, proudly displayed a sign of freedom;
the war goes on, till justice is served, for those now dead in their graves.
Murderers and thieves, walk freely the streets, enter temples to kneel down and pray;
for America, to just up and run, like them and go hide in a cave.
Father's intent, lining up on the streets, waiting for the pending vote;
shouts of glory, drenched with faith and hope, lies in the count of the tally.
The news has come, let it shout to the world, we will take no more of their shit;
but on the streets, the streets of Baghdad, tis not the time to dally. | Randy Lane
Copyright 2005
Listed 07/04/2005 |
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