Dressed
to kill one cool spring morning
Got on board the first one for tomorrow
On the crest of a rising wave
Of hate for strangers of our own kind
But the headlights cheering crowds of flags
I must have missed out something in me
The faded as we pulled away
Turned out to be only fear for skies
The bulldogs played
The pyres prayed
Down south the old and
desperate men
Sacrificed the young and raised the young
At the altar of their crumbling gods
Mourning for a love lost for a king
For nineteen years you've
charred my life
With your morals and your incentives
In six weeks pull it all apart
The horror's real and you are far away
My mind digging graves,
I came home late
So I was kept away from the
Easter parade
Hooked on a kind of freedom,
I still need to hurt somebody
Too estranged to talk about it,
or get close to anyone
The mother of the nation cries
Rejoice and I can hardly shuffle
Struck down by what the mean can do
For political ambition
And now the truth begins to surface
Like a spectre from the haunted hall
Rising up to bring them down I can't take heart,
I only wonder why
Is our conscience lame?
Is the fortune to shame?
Or to be gained
From the
Easter parade?