little body torn in two, a red coat that once was blue, and mothers just an arms length away, the whole families here to stay. he didnt see where the mortar went, he didnt see he just sent it, and backhome they'll call him a patriot, he's earning a steady paycheck. Young kids with molotovs, young men and children, say, kill em all. But come home when the street lights turn on. Turn on the tele, on at eleven. Death and destruction, tears and bloodshed. And then off to bed. Young kids with molotovs, young men and children, say kill em all, let god sort em out. I child sized prosthetic, a tourniquet with cartoon faces, a neighborhood raized to pieces. Kill em all and let god sort em out

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I dont love you anymore

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All my friends are dead

Little blue coat

5 dollar couch

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5 dollar couch

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