Lyrics Lords of War - Lowkey feat. Kaia
Intestines,
shattered
hopes
and
dreams
adorn
the
floor
The
face
behind
the
screen
has
seen
it
all
before
And
the
worst
thing
about
is
there's
more
in
store
Just
another
sacrifice
to
the
lords
of
war
The
royal
family
sell
guns
The
royal
family
sell
bombs
That
kill
the
world's
poorest
people
The
government
sell
guns
The
government
sell
bombs
That
kill
the
world's
poorest
people
The
sacrosanct
march
of
industry
The
sacrosanct
march
of
industry
Does
such
strange
things
to
people
The
spectatorship
of
suffering
The
spectatorship
of
suffering
Does
oh
such
strange
things
to
people
She
was
eight
years
old,
imagination
alive
Cute
as
could
be,
you
could
see
the
gleam
of
mischief
in
her
eye
Carrying
her
kite,
trying
find
a
place
where
it
could
it
fly
Hovering
not
far
she
saw
what
was
a
spaceship
in
her
mind
Too
young
to
really
understand
exactly
what
the
buzz
meant
Bread
and
water
everyday,
other
than
that
she's
unfed
Pressure
applied
diplomatically
to
stop
aid
Reality
enforced
by
the
air
and
naval
blockade
Back
to
her,
through
her
blood
flows
Qahtan
Ancient
civilisation
but
its
status
has
lost
charm،
She
found
a
place
to
fly
kite
in
the
soft
calm
Some
will
say
that
her
life
was
god's
palm
She
heard
her
mother
call,
saw
her
brother
fall
Didn't
realise
quick
enough,
stumbled
from
the
sudden
force
In
a
flicker
and
flash
to
the
horror
scene
of
death
This
is
what
happens
when
technology
meets
flesh
A
caravan
in
Nevada,
he
sits
twiddling
a
control
pad
Taking
down
coordinates,
scribbling
in
his
notepad
When
he
sweats
the
headphones
itch
and
irritate
his
eczema
Watching
scenes
on
the
screen
as
they
enter
through
his
retina
Sick
of
his
life,
his
wife
and
this
job
cos
it
kills
Sick
of
his
sick
father
and
debt
from
his
hospital
bills
Childhood
of
computer
games
that
learned
him
in
murder
He
wonders
if
he's
better
off
serving
up
burgers
A
small
part
of
him
loved
watching
death
from
a
distance
But
that
feeling
numbed
away
through
monotonous
repetition
Merely
going
through
the
motions,
like
the
robot
that
he
operates
Depersonalised
murder,
victim-less
violence
for
the
modern
age
His
cold
stare
and
tap
of
a
button
takes
her
only
life
Instantly
regrets
but
watches
on
as
she
slowly
dies
Grotesquely
intertwined
via
the
screen
that
he
stared
through
Her
kite
floats
away
but
we
will
never
know
where
to...
"What
fools
we
are,
to
live
in
a
generation,
For
which
war
is
a
computer
game
for
our
children,
And
just
an
interesting
little
Channel
4 News
item"
The
lord
lives
in
the
third
dimension
far
from
the
theatre
But
every
now
and
again
the
whimpers
of
the
carnage
get
nearer
Sometimes
in
his
dreams
he
sees
the
harmed
and
disfigured
Like
Dorian
Gray
can't
see
his
moral
scars
in
the
mirror
Cognitive
dissonance,
suppresses
his
pangs
of
conscience
Rationalises
it
away,
everybody
has
their
monsters
But
he
is
not
everyone
He
is
a
parasite
of
life
and
carries
Within
him
a
selfish
song
never
sung
Believes
he
loves
his
children,
is
he
capable
of
love?
Lord
of
the
machines
that
rain
Satan
from
above
Will
they
justify
what
daddy
did
or
hate
him
as
they
must
Realise
their
bread
and
butter
left
faceless
faces
in
the
dust
As
the
sights
locked
on
her
he
loosened
his
suit
and
tie
As
he
sighs,
balls
of
fire
were
shooting
off
to
her
right
As
she
died,
he
ordered
a
fruit
juice
with
some
ice
Her
kite
floats
away,
He
admires
the
blueness
of
the
sky...
Oh
Lord
of
war
1 Soundtrack to the Struggle 2
2 Ahmed
3 The Return of Lowkey
4 Sunday Morning
5 Skit 1
6 The Death of Neoliberalism
7 Skit 2
8 Ghosts of Grenfell
9 Islamophobic Lullabies
10 Goat Flow
11 Mcdonald Trump
12 Children of Diaspora
13 Skit 3
14 Heroes of Human History
15 Long Live Palestine 3
16 Letter to the 1%
17 Skit 4
18 Lords of War
19 Ghosts of Grenfell 2
20 Neoliberalism Kills People
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