11.11.11

Wear that bullet-hole on your chest
Send you off to some foreign shore
Celebrate this culture of violence
Tell you that it will end all war

Drape yourself in colours red white blue
Send you off to some foreign shore
Celebrate the winning team
Tell me that you know the score

Dress yourself in Gucci skin
Send them off to some foreign shore
Celebrate your pile of green
Labour left on the killing floor

Ask yourself who do you love?
Who decides your views for you?
Who demands your loyalty?
Who decrees these facades true

In Britain, Rememberance day has become a subtle moral tyranny which manifests itself in the ubiquitous poppy, paraded as if to say "not my fault", highjacked by the moral minority who see no paradox in the fact that these ex soldiers are being provided for by a charity and not by the warmongers who themselves constitute a large portion of that moral minority.