bullets over bethlehem 3

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bullets over bethlehem 3

the last dash of the desperate backyard soldiers,
their faith entrenched in a war of flame charred hearts,
theyre all on trial and cheating denial, theres no avoiding the cycle,
bullets border peace, while all higher conscience sleeps, we try and give a damn, but it ends up filled with leaks,

the airs grey brush has laid its touch on too many coffins,
the screaming sands have made demands that can never be met,
follys sword guards an extinct cause, bombs bleed from the temples,
the storm swings around, as an orphan darts through town, hes cushioned by lost dreams, that he gives up to the ground

the political melt impacts far too late to be felt,
militant horns clash in prophetic fanfares of scorn and trash,
and desolate corridors, where rabid hounds roam, wont renounce the failing script,
bethlehems the prize, that the losers will despise, the dialogue is dying, with no resurrection in its sights,

bullets over bethlehem,
scar the lives of those who live within,
theres no retreat, escape or compromise,
from this slow descent into hells hungry fires