The Massacre

Heavy street fighting

Been going on for days

Makeshift graves outside city limits

Filled with bodies of slaughtered people

Men women childeren all dead

The massacre - why

The massacre - why

Eight month foetus

Sticking on a bayonet

Mother's just a piece of dead meat

The massacre - why

The massacre - why

You murdered me with rope

You murdered me with guns too

You massacred whole families

And laughed throughout their pain