The Battlefield

Clear the battlefield and let me see
All the profit from our victory
You talk of freedom, starving children fall
Are you deaf when you hear the season's call?

Were you there to watch the earth be scorched?
Did you stand beside the spectral torch?
Know the leaves of sorrow turned their face
Scattered on the ashes of disgrace

Every blade is sharp; the arrows fly
We're the victims of your armies' lie
Where the blades of grass and arrows reign
Then there will be very little sorrow
Very little pain