25 September 2012
Thousands of missiles, standing in rows, Snuggled like moles deep in their borrows, Blind to the death and destruction they'd bring If ever they're called upon to take wing.
Never has so much ever been spent On things for which the only intent Is that they never, ever be used. Can I pretend that's not confused?
Still there are others hoping for more, Like its no fun to not be at war. Human slaughter is such a cool game, We indulge, or are sorry we came.
Hiding Underground • Opuss № I