Interventions

Threat level red, are you terrified yet?
Or do you think again, like a lonely man on his death bed?
Any danger we’re in is the result of a combination
Of stupidity and treason, we fail to use reason
When we forget that war is always cruel
And treason is when they trade our soldier’s lives for fossil fuels
No mention of what caused the grievance
We sleep better at night
Assuming religious doctrine is the reason
But I find it hard to believe this
Religion is a tool, warped and distorted by both sides
The same way that gang culture is either demonised or glorified
As it flows here through the schools
But there’s no glory
Recruiters don’t tell them the whole story
And we don’t hear it either
Cultures collapse into the ether
Sectarian violence has a clear global dimension
It’s human nature for us to feel closer to our brethren
Than to anyone else
And the less you have, the more it can be important
To showcase your support
If it’s what your parents died for
Or someone else you know
Or at least that’s what you’re told
Many of us know someone on the front line
Miles away from home
But it’s the same shit, different day, irrespective of the side
A likely mould; a young person willing to lose their life
With little else to do and nowhere else to go
Sign them up, tell them they’re just going with the flow
A solid job, and though your colleagues are reminding you of home
You’re convinced that you’re protecting your neighbours and kids
From these strange sounding, weird looking invalids
But this argument is invalid
Wage violence and their resolve will only grow
Wage war and it’s all this generation will ever know
Think about how you feel when you see us attacked
Does it make you want to sit back and lay down your arms?
Or is the best recruitment tool
When your enemy causes harm upon your legacy?
If so, then how is attacking going to stop them?
It’s upsetting, realising what the two sides have in common
Two groups of militant leaders happy to play politics
Spending trillions on wars that are child on child
There are always vocal authorities who want to battle often
But it’s the people on the ground that suffer, no way to soften the blow
The reality is right there in the coffins
The long wooden boxes, draped in the flag that we all know
Deaths that didn’t need to happen
Wars we didn’t need to have for show
Burning oil to find oil, that’s the hubris of this parade
You’ve got to spend money to make money
But we’ve made no net-gains
From this twelve-year sand capade

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