paroles de chanson Warmongers - Jon Simpson

Our imaginations now have failed
This lie to which we are ensnared
Life is a property to defend
Instead of beauty we must share
We kill each other
We kill our land
Violence will be our end

There are no blessings for the warmonger
Their swords will stab at their own hearts
Trade your weapons
For water's balm
Your ramparts are burning
Choose instead detente

Death lurks under
Facades of peace
Murder in both
Mind and flesh are real
We cannot wash
Blood from our hands
When it's our thoughts that
Shoot on demand

Offered to Moloch
Our progeny
And made bravado
Our sanctuary
Our mouths condemn us
O rest assured
(Our) bodies will swing as
We hang on our every word

One humanity
Under the gun
Culture of death
For everyone

There are no blessings for the warmonger
Our swords will stab at our own hearts
Let's trade our weapons
For water's balm
Our ramparts are burning
Won't we choose detente?

Where is the man of peace?
Where is the man of peace?
Where is the man of peace?
Where is the man of peace?