Suite For The Souls Of Our Enemies (part I Hammer And Sickle)

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"?