A broad incision sits across the evening
The victim to our fathers lost war
The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before
Will they be buried here among the dead?
In the silent secret
The pioneers
In dealing with it they march for dawn. . . Of will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born. . .
Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine
Man your own battle station
We'll have you home pretty soon
Awake through motion
With curiosity to curtain your first move
Over arms length they'll break protocol
Jealous envy for the youngest one
To be the hero is all I'll ask
Can I be buried here among the dead?
With room to honor me here in the end
You'll be better off too soon
You'll be better off when you get home
For you,
I’d do anything just to make you happy, hear you tell me that you’re proud of me
For them,
I’ll kill anything cut the throats of babies for them break they're hearts for they were them
Waiting for you to say… I love you too
The navigator
The pilot
Her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift
Will,
Do the children really understand the things you did to them?
And why oh why. . .
Should they conjure up the will for you my love I would kill him
In the seventh turning hour
Should the victims shadow fall
Will the irony grow hungry?
With victory and all they sought for
We were one among the fence
One among the fence
