‘The Saws'

We are good people – we may
Be slightly lame
But we don't inflict pain

We only wish to protect our loved ones
From experience of
Grief, despair or loss

And for that, one by one of us
Is gradually sucked
In; slowly fucked up

His narcissism can only be
Salved by sowing seeds
Of calamity

As they destroy another community
They rejoice in their moral immunity
As they tear apart another family
Their constant din beckons insanity
As they slice through another tree
The saws are killing me

We are decent folk – we are
Cursed with skinny arms
But we mean no harm

We don't want those who we care for
To know desperation or
Be faced with nuclear war

And for our trouble, we are dispatched
To Hell in a
Little Hoover bag

His megalomania will only be
Sated by blowing the
Future apart with glee

As they destroy another community
They rejoice in their moral immunity
As they tear apart another family
Their constant din beckons insanity
As they slice through another tree
The saws are killing me

The saws are killing me.

 

© M.A.Tovey 2006