War Is Over
War is Over
Dear Princesses and Passenger Pigeons:
Iâ€™ve learned to make the sun rise on command.
The world is a stage.
So I will dress you up;
decide when the war will end
and how the world will be.
Iâ€™ll take you out on fancy dates in speakeasies
Youâ€™ll showcase gaudy hats
or wear a red flower in your hair.
Iâ€™m at the epicentre of the aftermath
of a whirlwind destruction path.
My entourage is a projection of my state of mind.
Iâ€™ll drink to the death of those who hurt you
and wish more than anything
that it had not been me.