and all that's left is
A little ocean
Just a single tear
Will your war machine
Keep turning bullets
To jobs for the poor?
When the taps only
Drip out a trickle
Of sickly poison
And leaded promise
Will your brand value
Fill family needs
Or even fill a cup?
When all this is gone
And the trains don't run
Nought but screaming wind
And dust dust dust dust
What remains of that
Tax free policy
That promised the world?
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