Give me an era
In which boys are men
In which the silent armies of the night
Rob the cradles of the day.
Give me a time when war
Is more than a game for young mongrels.
When love is measured in heartbeats.
I want to be part
Of an age when mothers are fathers and
Babies are kings.
I want noise at nights
And noise at morning;
I want screams and shouts
So that I will never be alone.
They say each generation is left
With the mistakes of its forrbearer. I
Make sure to aim carefully
So my sons and daughters will have one fewer mistake
To clean up.
Hold my hand
Steady my arm.
The earth will burn red tonight
But it will not be from our blood.
