The skies are red, the skies are red,
But that's not what I see.
I see a land that seems well bled-
A sight saved just for me.
I watch as clouds of cotton floss
Shed bombs through spiral stairs.
I watch them shatter upon the earth,
And leave it burnt and bare.
Oh, where are the cold stone buildings gone
That once stood tall and strong?
Where are the bustling, bursting throngs
That filled the streets? What's wrong?!
At once the world swells and sways,
The reds turn ghastly white.
Through the mists of my cluttered mind,
I see a flash of light.
It leads me out into a park
With a noise I can't shake off
I hear them scream, I hear them weep,
But I see no sight thereof.
But, wait, I see! My vision clears,
I see the bleeding line
Of bodies bare, of scared death masks
And oh no! That one's mine!
My face lies pale, my eyes as misted
As they must have been
To all the world, for the things I saw
They could never have seen.
I lie shattered in a pool of crimson,
My body is so finely bled,
Through gashes I see red rivers flow,
from a body I have now shed.
If god makes man, then man makes war,
To quench his lust for blood.
No, that's not all, he wants much more,
He lusts for power over mud.
For all he's left for himself and his kind
Is a sea of moist, dead mud.
No people are left, no plants shine green,
No flower, not even a bud.
I'm glad I'm dead, for I see them well
In the lines of their greedy face.
I'm glad I'm dead, for I want no part
Of this horrid human race.
The skies are red, the earth bleeds red,
But that's not what I spot.
I see the men who'll kill their kin
For a land that's built on rot.