You've got the mouth of a she wolf

Inside the mask of an innocent lamb

You say your heart is all compassion

But there's just a flat line on your cardiogram



Yet you always made a profit baby

If it was a famine or a feast



Yes, I'm the soul of indiscretion,

I was cursed with x-ray vision,

I could see right through all the lies you told,

When you smiled for the television



And you can see the coming battle

You pray the drums will never cease

And you may win this war that's coming

But would you tolerate the peace?



Investing in munitions

And those little cotton flags

Invest in wooden caskets

In guns and body bags, guns and body bags



Your daddy was a businessman

And it always made good sense

You know the war can make you rich my friend

In dollars, pounds and cents



In the temple that was Mammon's

You were ordained the parish priest

Yes you may win this coming battle

But could you tolerate the peace?



Invest in deadly weapons

And those little cotton flags

Invest in wooden caskets

In guns and body bags

You're invested in oppression

Investing in corruption

Invest in every tyranny

And the whole world's destruction



I imagine there's a future

When all the earthly wars are over

You may find yourself just standing there

On the white cliffs of Dover



You may ask, what does it profit a man

To gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?

Is that your body you see on the rocks below

As the tide begins to roll?



And you invested in this prison

From which you never got released

You may have won this war we're fighting

But would you tolerate the peace?



There's