When you woke this morning you looked so
rocky-eyed,

Blue and white normally, but strange ringed like
that in black.

It doesn't get much better, your voice can get
just ripped up shooting in vain,

Maybe someone hears what you say, but you're
still on your own at night.

You've got to make such a noise to understand the
silence.

Screaming like a jackass, ringing ears so you
can't hear the silence

Even when it's there - like the wind seen from
the window,

Seeing it, but not being touched by it.

(We never asked for war, nor in the innocence of
our birth were we aware of it.

We never asked for war, nor in the struggle to
realisation did we feel there was a need for it.

We never asked for war, nor in the joyful colours
of our childhood were we conscious of its
darkness.)

HOW DOES IT FEEL?

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Young boys rest now, cold graves in cold earth.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Sunken eyes, lost now; empty sockets in futile
death.

Your arrogance has gutted these bodies of life,

Your deceit fooled them that it was worth the
sacrifice.

Your lies persuaded people to accept the wasted
blood,

Your filthy pride cleansed you of the doubt you
should have had.

You smile in the face of the death cause you are
so proud and vain,

Your inhumanity stops you from realising the pain

That you inflicted, you determines, you created,
you ordered -

It was your decision to have those young boys
slaughtered.

You never wanted peace or solution,

From the start you lusted after war and
destruction.

Your blood-soaked reason ruled out other choices,

Your mockery gagged more moderate voices.

So keen to play your bloody part, so impatient
that your war be fought.

Iron Lady with your stone heart so eager that the
lesson be taught

That you inflicted, you determines, you created,
you ordered -

It was your decision to have those young boys
slaughtered.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Young boys rest now, cold graves in cold earth.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Sunken eyes, lost now; empty sockets in futile
death.

Throughout our history you and your kind

Have stolen the young bodies of the living

To be twisted and torn in filthy war.

What right have you to defile those birth?

What right have you to devour that flesh?

What right to spit on hope with the gory madness

That you inflicted, you determines, you created,
you ordered -

It was your decision to have those young boys
slaughtered.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Young boys rest now, cold graves in cold earth.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Sunken eyes, lost now; empty sockets in futile
death.

You accuse us of disrespect for the dead,

But it was you who slaughtered out of national
pride.

Just how much did you care? What respect did you
have

As you sent those bodies to their communal grave?

You buried them rough-handed, they'd given you
their all,

That once living flesh defiled in the hell

That you inflicted, you determines, you created,
you ordered -

It was your decision to have those young boys
slaughtered.

You use those deaths to achieve your ends still,

Using the corpses as a moral blackmail.

You say Think of what those young men gave

As you try to bind us in your living death,

Yet we do think of them, ice cold and silence

In the snow covered moorlands, stopped by the
violence

That you inflicted, you determines, you created,
you ordered -

It was your decision to have those young boys
slaughtered.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

Young boys rest now, cold graves in cold earth.

How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand
death?

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We don't want your fucking war!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We don't want your fucking war!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - We don't want your fucking war!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 You can stop your fucking war!