guerre, it's всюду

how can war be an option?
how can you sign up to kill?
who draws these shifting lines
we are sold to bow down to?
you're secure in your numbers.
we're secure in your clock.
maybe this is hell?
maybe god did exist?
if he ones was here
his presents will be missed.
but i could only wish for hell.
this is the cast i was born into.
ah shit.
no time.
no option.
no escape form your war.
we are debts on your fathers
with our faces on the floor.
in this fleeting present
i can see through their lies.
uniforms,
a disguise.
fuck your flag
and and everything that you know.
you resort to violence.
why is violence ever in need?
it's what were told.
it's what we know.
it's what we believe.
i don't know what to do.
i hate everything.
and i just don't get its;
it's so fucking easy to see though.
shit.