you stride across that continent
with your intent camera
trained upon some mothers son or other
trained upon bloodstains
perchance
trained upon a troubled brow?
oh dear children
what have your mothers done
dear children
you grew twisted
insistent
upon this delusion
you are only as tough as your weapon
as cool as your tat
filming rat ta tat tat
as easy as
Bond stirring a cocktail
you think?
Drink the blood of lambs
yes
it has driven you mad
drives me insane
to think that you had
once
upon
a
time
innocence
such as this
my sons
my sons
my sons!
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