written By
We blew out enemy brains
then blew our trumpets
mopped the floors of clotting blood
tuned our horns, turned our backs
marched forward into the flood
We were afforded no quarter
we had bitter love for lack of agenda
we blasted our way into the black,
backs against bleak, narrow spaces
skins of the dead stretched over our faces
in bullet silence we made soft music of love
below crying macaws in tone deaf jungles
tarnished brass to our lips, we placed
fallen comrades like tulip bulbs
grim tortured embrace in a garden of remorse
we clung to hope like brittle branches
little chances to steal light from the sleeping sun
we played our instruments under cover of dirge
echoes of taps as maps to find our truest urge
emotions surge as we retrace broken steps
to Homeland’s gate where we imagine faces
traces of love and honesty kept
we never asked more or less of others
we licked our lips when we felt need of salt
we gazed in broken mirrors in search
of brothers and to accept unforgiven fault
no one explained for us the sound of thunder
many held us to account for careless blunder
others used as cadence to start or end war
in beautiful rain we marched with horns
held high, sweet puppets of an angry god
we played songs that broke down walls
we never paused or changed our shape
while losing each other in the fog of fate
we clicked like insects, a private sonar
we never questioned cause or the madness
of wind as fools needed to speak
justify saving their skin, our boots
dried black with blood of dead heroes
one act of war
or a four act concerto
we closed our eyes to count
backwards from zero
we closed our eyes
we closed our eyes.
