There are boxes packed with bullets there are crates all stacked with boxes. There are uniforms and hardware there are meals all wrapped in plastic. Through the night the ships are loading every night these ships are loading. Beneath the glare of the burning floodlights and the dancing of the swarmed mosquitoes. And into the fire and the blood red sun the old and rich still send the young men. Into a world of twisted steel and the acrid smell of metal burning. And on the streets of hometown now we watch each other as if we’re strangers. But say it loud scream it loud: I am not at war. He says: this body I have been given shall be returned unto its maker. Beneath my clothes these secrets hidden the sacrifice that I have to offer. By the checkpoint there are soldiers and the cypress branches waving. And the light is hard as glass and the sky is blue and cool and waiting. And into the fire and the blood red sun the old and rich still send the young men. Into a world of twisted steel and the acrid smell of metal burning. And on the streets of hometown now we watch each other as if we’re strangers. But say it loud scream it loud: I am not at war. These stupid empty words could all be written on the cold pale skin. Of the dead laid out in shallow graves along the road of bombed out palm trees. And in the corners of the bars and cafes in every town in every nation. There are these blood-sports on the TVs and the loaded toneless voices. There are cameras by the gravesides and in the executioners’ chambers. There are cameras high above us to guide the missiles down from the heavens. And into the fire and the blood red sun the old and rich still send the young men. Into a world of twisted steel and the acrid smell of oil burning. And on the streets of hometown now we watch each other just like strangers. But say it loud scream it loud: I am not at war