Bleed

It’s a beautiful day in December and the war is coming home
Across the fields where shepherds sleep tanks of the armies roam
Sees the blood in the toilet bowl thinks of her late addition
The way her body is bound to the moon in constant capitulation

The agents of fear and disorder crawl the salty brine
Drink from the wells of beauty and health drink to the prophetic sign
Marines have landed on the shores of the bay cut off escape over land
They’ve already taken the radio station armed to the teeth to a man

This time when they lock you up for your trust in the holy grail
No walls will fall or chains come loose no angel go your bail