2011, or a Knight of the Fail

Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell

Playing killer games in your solitary cell

Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head

A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead

On July 21st, I saw Gurnemanz mourn

In the ruins of '45, his uniform torn

Parsifal in Bayreuth, a Knight of the Grail

The Dictatorship defeated, a quest doomed to fail

A wedding in Norway, the conductor's hand beckoned

I flew out on July 22nd

Landed in Oslo at 15:22

Three minutes later the Terror became true

Saw Government buildings going in smoke

I thought it was a video, it had to be a joke

Stayed in the airport, safe and at distance

Hardly a position that offers resistance

Dramatize the Untergang, don't we, my artist friends

That sweet sensation of an Angst that never ends

But all a sudden, the threat became real

Expanding ammunition made wounds that wouldn't heal

Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell

Playing killer games in your solitary cell

Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head

A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead

I thought it was a film, it couldn't be right

Terror took the form of a lunatic Knight

Disguised as a policeman he killed 77

That was Oklahoma, our September 11th

On the day two months after I lost my loved mother

Everything changed from one day to another

All of a sudden, my grief was ours

The young kept on dying, in spite of the powers

That tried to help them, but the evil was strong

And "you did this", O Heinous, the irreparable wrong

In the Nation of Tolerance, the end of a Pact :

People thought it was Islamist, Muslims were attacked

Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell

Playing killer games in your solitary cell

Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head

A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead

The Kingdom wept and protested with roses

I kept my uniform on and continued my poses

They gathered at Young's and sang children's songs

I kept listening to Burzum, unrepenting my wrong

To mother and daughter, to father and son :

I think Grief made us mad, each and every one

I had wept for four months and only felt rage

Gone were the days of the lyricist sage

I saw analysts grapple with Freedom of Expression

Using he massacre as a reason for Repression

I spoke out against them, here Justice ends

Not the kind of message that wins you new friends

2010, before everything went black

2010, now it's time to look back

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