The Moth and the Candle

The sounds and smells of ten thousand war machines
Invade my solitary head an pervade all my dreams
I can see a million faces I have never before seen
And hear from a million throats, a million wretched screams
From a people the world ignored and never before cared
Against whom they will now unite to kill and to scare
Cold eyes, firm handshakes and a general conviction
Silk dresses, sharp suits and the smell of ambition
Force through large fists legitimacy and morality
All mixed up and confused by those who don’t want you to see
The naked hatred and dull grey greed of what little souls
Control this realm of stupidity and marvels that has grown old
They can be seen and heard everyday on television and radio
Uttering their cant with a sincerity they do not know
Forcing you to believe each word that they say
Placing your sons and daughters in unholy harm’s way
They don the dead mantle of representative democracy
And hold aloft a dark light so the world cannot see
They will argue to the end which they will have brought about
And will be there at the last, when the final candle is snuffed out