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Funny how the symptoms are the same,
feeling vulnerable, need someone to blame
was it through spite? That you joined the fight
or trauma so bad, that you ignore your sight

something that clings, makes you feel sane
these problems unheard, will remain arcane
an en masse hoodwink? Or conviction, to freely think?
For the noble cause, takes us to the brink

Dethroned
Do you like it
Disowned
How do you like it?

Dust obscures and blinds
was it from the start
you were so inclined

now without shame won’t feel alone
the glory of war, the king upon his throne
and remember the dead, for they gave all, fought and they bled
as we trample this path, scream transgression, you’ve screamed your last

tell us of, the great celebration
the pretext to war, justification for obliteration
but maybe its I
who with shrouded eyes
but the way I see
these limbs belong to me
fight for the truth
fight for preachers and suits
fight for empire
Fight for the noose

These are the bombs that kings built
These are the sons that dictators killed
These are the memories that glorification misrepresented
war is still hell, but the oppositions been buried

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