Why is it always the simple man who must pay the price,
When the program calls for dying?
A simple man who rarely gets confused,
Enjoys a drink with friends, the sight of mountains,
The sound of seas, the smell of a child's hair,
And before the day's work,
Coffee, and the touch of a good woman's hand.
A simple man who doesn't want to control anyone.
He just wants to live out his life in peace with those he loves,
Until his time is up, and yet, they come at him from every side,
Screaming answers to questions that only Love can answer.
They speak of justice and freedom as if it were as simple
As pulling a trigger.
And more often than not, it's a power play in the end,
Whoever wins.
And the new will have their day as the old had theirs.
And when the killing's over, the old familiar faces will reappear
With different numbers on their backs
And walk among the corpses of the simple men.