Say It with Flowers

The Christmas cards and greetings are arriving
Across the shifty sands to the wall
By the time I get to read them
She’ll be rising
To a fifty/fifty chance
And nothing more
WAR!
Through the sleet and drizzle
You can hear the sound of soldiers
The Kalashnikov and splutter
On a sunny day
From the east and middle
To the north and south and nowhere
People earn their bread and butter
In some funny ways
WAR!
Meanwhile…
In the corridors of power
Where the talks are in full swing
If you can’t say it with flowers
Than don’t say anything
I want to see my children
Grow up in to healthy human beings
I wanna see them walking, running
Playing, laughing, and singing
WAR!
In the corridors of power
Where the talks are in full swing
If you can’t say it with flowers
Than don’t say anything
I’m just outside the home of Christmas now
And I’m dying
All across the shifty sands
There’s blood and guts
By the time I get to Jesus
She’ll still be crying
I guess a fifty/fifty chance
Wasn’t good enough