Future Wars

Crows

wipe the blood off the end of your claws

Said the vulture

lets gather like storms

For the war

for the war

Crows

as the night turns its skin into coal

Dark as corpses but cluttered with gold

They will label you thieves

wolves

and whores

but

You are nothing less than angels

You are nothing less than angels

You are nothing less than angels

You are nothing less than angels

Cast down and covered in black

Ain't this the bloodiest mess in the world?

Said the virgin

a torn little girl

Boy

you went and made a sweet wreck of my soul

And I've already forgiven you

And blood was running down her dress

In streams

into her hands where she was stitching

On the flesh he'd left in sections

On the carpet near a bed that

Never slept while you was sleeping

In her clothes that he had laid with

On the floor with all his fingers

Crossed

in hoping that that distance wouldn't grow

But how it grew

and how it hurt

And how it hallowed every memory he'd

Never felt was threatened by a thing the world could

Conjure up to kill them

Oh

but he let it kill them

What a bunch of fools we lovers are

And now she's smiling

With herself put back together

Just a shadow of the past before the war

all sewn together

Like a city sick from

Storms and sick of waiting for a

God to call the floods out of her home

What a bunch of fools we lovers are

we lovers are

When tempted by the taste of flesh

"My boy

you are nothing more

Than a thief and a whore in a suit of the finest of armor"

Laughed the vulture

laughed the vulture

"Pathetic little child

I am embarrassed for you"