A final, burning denunciation
Immense wisdom versus
A militant and muscular resistance
A song ascends the valley wall
Singing of afternoons spent in seclusion
In the chapel garden. In the morning
And in the evening phantom gypsies cry
Sending sorrowful messages
Into a smoke-choked sky
This is a war without end

And the unformed ones they speak,
They write correctly
Everything is standardised
Until the sudden, shocking
Rush of blood. Negotiations falter
The radio crackles and beeps
And the girl won’t stop screaming
Long haired and mired in mud
The soldiers stand idly by
And casually they watch her die

This is the natural order
And these are the facts


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