Machine Of War
Down to the T inside my bones.
Written in the dust.
With the machine driven by War.
Blood must be spilled.
Screams must be filled.
Mr. Money and Mr. Hide.
With excessive dollars that are being tilled.
Do you care.
And by change, if you do not.
Mothers which lost their sons.
Widow makers under the black night.
One that shines without a moon.
While the peace lovers with the tint for hate.
In the safe environment.
Sometimes even underground.
Inside the snakes living room.
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