What Junior sold at the market for thirty silver and a pack of baseball cards

Today we will speak of many things broken
and lost -- covered in tattered honor and warrior blood.
It will be hopeless though, for wars are lost
and we are left with pansies and pathetic men like me
who fight only with words.

Covered now in green and the camouflage of peace
the sad hubris of better ways and diplomacy
of cast-iron righteousness -- I am sure
I am most little here. Most sad.
Most forgotten.

Oh, we can speak of greatness, and call the foolish dreams
of clean water and tall oak more holy than the blood
of our children on sand altars

Oh, we can speak of lemmings, and their leaps of Godless faith
from the high peaks of our flagless patriotic stores
from the depths where our submarines slither in darkness

Oh we can speak of Honor, please
let us.

Let us stand beneath stars
in the true silver of moonlight

Let us proclaim the worth of men
and women -- equal.

Let skin tone be greater than deeds
and aliens have more rights than we earthbound fools

Oh We can speak of honor,
yes. we can.

but not ours

never ours again.