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November 29, 2003
Send the old off to war

By Ahmed Amr.


Send the old off to war
By Ahmed Amr

Old men with hair in ears
And morbid creeds
Have ruled for years
And shed no tears
For waif or wench
Or blinded seers

Fine tailored suits
Fixated smiles
Adorn malthusian lords
Who showing kindness
Just for show

Stamp suckling babes
With ethnic signs
And damn us all
With genocide

From darkest womb
Old men come cloned
And rise and rise in stature
Till full-grown monsters
Are unleashed
With hair in ears
And morbid creeds

Old men with
Lines of cocaine
Skipping round
Messianic brains

Plant seeds of bloody vengeance
In every mother's milk
Allow pestilence supreme reign
And from famine harvest gain

Old men
Curse them all
Spice human flesh
For wild cannibal balls
On ritual dawns

Parade past disfigured
Marble monuments
To laud epic slaughter
And promise more

While mournful tunes
Delight the crowd
In faded ornamental garb
With dangling medals
And high brow

Old men with hair in ears
And serpentine tears
Entice young braves
With reverential speech
Of epic tales
About battles joined

And those who fell
To gory fate
Are resurrected as bait
To lure to Verdun
More cannon fodder
For one more charge
Of the Light Brigade

With epidemic lust
For victory parades
On autumn colored streets
Old men dance
Where fallen leaves
Drown Memories
Of vanquished retreats

Old men with hair in ears
And morbid dreams
Paint movie screens
With romance of war
Plast recruitment posters
On gray Appalachian walls

Snatch youthful prospects
On dark humid
Kentucky summer nights

Be all that you can be
Avoid black lung
Die bold
Die young

Desecrate postcard vistas
With hell fire
Paste orange poison
On their foliage

Smear their soil
With crimson blood
Fertilize their souls
With daily dread

Demonise bastard enemy hordes
Vilify their lords
Lay waste their homes
Use their sisters as whores
Televise it all
And pass out the awards

Old men with hair in ears
And wicked dreams
When young sang songs
To avoid Saigon

Flat-footed chicken hawks
Now lead the flock
And talk trash talk
Of light cakewalks

And when battles turn
To long hard slogs
They speak of climate
Blame war's fog

Old men with hair in ears
And vicious dreams
Dress us all in
Garments stained with
Scarlet letters of Cain

Piss off ancient tribes
From another time
Inject their young
With rage and bile

Fake false alarm
At their disdain
For our love of wine
And short skirt lines

Old men with hair in ears
And morbid fears
Ring philadelphian bells
And claim surprise
At vengeful hearts
And angry minds

When all along
They knew a price
We all must pay
Came due that day

For silver mountains
Deserts of black gold
Accursed old men
Preempt peace with war

Pit creed against creed
Hearts against hearts
Pollute young millenniums
With chronic brain farts

Strut like ancient gods
Demanding as sacrifice
One more slice
Of alien flesh
Young sweet and fresh

In every age
They fail to change
So what to do
With these old fools

There is a way
To make em all
Praise Chief Joseph
Bless his Nez Perce soul

From where the sun then stood
When Looking Glass was gone
He fought no more forever

When Kippling's son
Did fall in battle
You could not hear
His saber rattle

So why reason
With this crop of runts
Dispatch old men
To every front

Unclog their ears
Have them die to kill
Wrinkled skin should
Burn as well

Watch how wet
Their armor gets
When young braves
Dig their graves

Let's see how long
Madness thrives
When bullets graze
Their fat old hides

War isn't what it used to be
If you can drive an RV
You can steer a Humvee
See you in Baghdad daddy

Let's poke their eyes
With all their lies
They have no mothers
To scream or cry

What will they lose?
Shed a year or two
From a too long life?
Break the heart of
An ancient wife?

No young bride
Will shed a tear
So send them first
Teach them fear

And if by luck
They should survive
And make it home alive
Dispense to each and all
Shiney medals made of chrome

And once each year
Until they're gone
We'll throw a party
To hear them groan

About what ails their
Back and spine
And how their wounds
Don't heal with time

We'll thank them all
For front line duty
Demand our share
Of all war booty

Who would complain
If they are slain?
Who will remain
To feel their pain?

If they leave orphans
They'll be full grown
And understand
The price of war

They'll drink a toast
To brave old dad
Who took their place
To free Baghdad

And if old soldiers
Should lose a limb
Dig fresh graves
And bury their leg

Then buy a keg
And joke and jest
About ample room
For all the rest

Let's clip the hair
From around their ears
And let them live
Their morbid dreams

Let's send no child off to war
If they are under sixty four

Bring back the draft
For the old and daft
Have them retire
On the line of fire

Their lives are boring
Have em dig some trenches
Spend moon lit nights
With foreign wenches

And if by chance
They get VD
They'll smile
And savor virility

The widows they leave
Will not grieve
And if they do
It will be brief

They all know well
Life's just a thief
Death steals more gold
From young than old

So send the old
Off to war
And let the young
For once stay home

Ahmed Amr

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