A second one, this dates from the first Gulf War. I keep trying to update it, but words fail me:

        Consequence


A madman in desert sun, sand in the gears;
Fighting a far-off foe. Why are we here?

A small country overrun, the iron heel ground
Her people into the dust; darkness came down.
A madman in desert sun, sand in the gears;
Fighting to free a land, that's why we're here.

We're really not welcome here, our ways are too strong.
Religions and cultures clash; we can't help but be wrong.
A madman in desert sun, sand in the gears;
What can be truly gained? Why are we here?

Other small countries near, endangered by might.
A line must be drawn and held; we must make the fight.
A madman in desert sun, sand in the gears;
"No passaran," we cry! That's why we're here.

It wasn't so long ago, in this wasted land,
Another war raged unchecked, and we played a hand.
Weapons were bought and sold, or traded for oil.
Profits in a prophet's land; the soul for the soil.

A madman in desert sun, sand in the gears;
We helped make him what he is, that's why we're here.



Copyright © 1991, Bob Clayton. All Rights Reserved.