Blow out the candles, I’m tired of liars
who’d burn wings of angels to fuel tribal fires.
I’ve seen lines being drawn and scattered landmines
I know the disease, I recognize signs.

Blow out the candles, just for tonight.
Don’t look at those faces, the cowards are out.
Cannon fodder has no color, nor creed,
the blood is red, when we all bleed.




©2018 Troy Towns All Rights Reserved


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