We gon' mix up a fresh batch of devils name them politic and war... no thing more sprinkle them on the morning make death in the afternoon Like twinkle twinkle is gonna get you a discount on jet streams when the stars in your eyes are someone's daddy's bombs and no surprise the awful price of yesterday's lies We are the third soldier mowing machine Mister Gatling your genius in our hearts the metal of your love hurts and some thing worse the kindling of your fire Waken slowly Child Peace is the prize of moment mouthed epithets instead.. 'I care for you' Energy is all we are war a misspent potential There is no thing natural about selection choices and near misses There are no lesser animals only those whom think and in so doing wish themselves more