We tell our kids
When they get hit
Don’t retaliate
You’re just asking for trouble,
Tell some official
Nothings settled with more pummel,
Communication
Not selfish domination
Is what we need more of
On frustrating occasions
Though grown-ups play by different rules
You got what I want and I process the tools
To take you over, stump you under
Whip you up and whip you out,
Slaves, genocide, bombs and planes
Fire, scream and shout,
Their anxious for blood
Their longing for blood
Twisted justice to fight until they die
Every mans out crawling in the dust,
While the land all lives on crumbs
Their peace in pieces with each life,
It’s not murder in the name of state
Too happy to kill, to murder, to hate.
Where did the little kids go
The mediators, arbitrators,
Grown to arms man and dictators,
Shows where the state of the human heart lies,
They Won’t fail to fire at the whites of your eyes