MONEY FOR THAT

Bulletins shoot an exploding sky,

Children whimper and old women cry,

While men chant slogans and curse today’s date,

Then a rocket whistles by as if launched by hate.

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

Most of them live below poverty’s level,

Dozens die daily, no chance to revel;

But the child soldiers wear new combat gear

And cuddle their guns, they’re younger each year.

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

Eight million people chosen and rare,

Armed to the teeth and ready to bear

Vicarious hopes of cliques ‘cross the sea,

Who claim they all represent you and me.

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

Through the fine dust the camera gets shots -

New assault rifles, men’s masks tied with knots.

They martial their captives and fire ‘til they’re dead,

Then set up some spikes to display severed heads.

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

It’s nothing but wreckage or so they all say.

We see carrier’s colours against each grey day.

Dull thugs point rifles, drunk with cheap thrills,

Discharge ghastly missiles to create more kills.

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

Have you seen their harbourside house lights?

Have you seen them seated first class on flights?

Have you watched their flash cars dash from view?

Have you noticed that they never seem to see you?

And I’m left to wonder:

Where did they get the money for that?

Are there links between obscene wealth and war?

What does it matter what they’re all fighting for?

As long as there’s money to be borrowed, lent and made

By villains and bankers who fund the filthy arms trade.

And they’re left to plunder

Whatever they choose to get them the money for that.