I will not fight my father's wars Nor shut the gate or close up the door To your tired, too your poor I who warred, war no more.
To the glory of God burning bright Whos works of love unburdened my soul Of all the strife and blackheart hate Cast away the dying night in the depths of my being.
with harm to none, I will not fight my father's enemies his enemies sons of sons Tossing down that old demon, strife I who dared with joy to live! To live! Oh to live and let live! This one joyous life.
Though conquerors descendant in my bone Blood of generations, who fought. I count the sons of my enemies Victims lives who countless lost
Perhaps the sentiment not equally applied The exulted libation of comforts pride Mayhaps the fools suicide. I will not murder the innocent. I'd rather die.
But OVERCOME with this surging voice Against the numbness of history's slaughter All who died for mens nations, pride, or prejudice sons and daughters. All my sisters, all my brothers.
We who took up arms in ages past We who feared the depredations of others Or strangers from far off lands I see the faces of my father, my mother Linked arm in arm, hand in hand.
The Imperium of Man.
(post is archived)