The Massacre

Heavy street fighting
Been going on for days
Makeshift graves outside city limits
Filled with bodies of slaughtered people
Men, women, little children all dead
The massacre — why?
The massacre — why?
Eight month foetus
Sticking on a bayonet
Motherґs just a piece of dead meat
Eight month foetus
Sticking on a bayonet
Motherґs just a piece of dead meat
You murdered me with rope
You murdered me with guns too
You massacred whole families
And laughed throughout their pain
Repeat verses 1 & 3