M.A.D.


Down rain the bombs, peak folly of genius.
A hailstorm of missiles, it’s either them or us.
(Sun) Tzu’s rule of battle: Attack to defend.
No one knew who fired first, (but) it’s a dead-heat for the end.

Mushroom clouds billow,
W.M.D. – painkiller.
Poisoned earth, poisoned air,
unwinnable total/modern warfare.

M.A.D.

Cold war children, their shadows stainin’ brick.
Mass annihilation, multi-trillion dollar trick.
Deep in the mountains, dark worthless souls cower,
A scorched, lifeless planet, the new balance of power.

PRE-CHORUS

CHORUS

Draft dodgin’ C-in-Cs cryin’ “War! War! War!”
The gates of Hell are opened the world hears Cerberus roar.

PRE-CHORUS

CHORUS

©17.7.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman

No one knew who started it, it’s a dead-heat for the end.
welcome to modern warfare.


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