Good Men Bleed Fast

Mothers, hold on to your sons
before another one falls
in the valley of guns
be certain they don't slip up, trip up or fall
for good men bleed fast if they don't bleed at all

a brief pause...then a prayer it might last
broken by screams and shattering glass
old men mumble, young girls tremble
soldiers retreat, unable to assemble...

hate loves the night
it hides its twisted face
letting blind bullets fly
hitting mortar, metal, and the ones who die...
the battle grows hot while the bodies grow cold
another prayer for pause, before it unfolds
parents bury their children
children bury their youth
while the eyes of reason
turn their back on the truth

Mothers, hold on to your sons
before another one falls
in the valley of guns
be certain they don't slip up, trip up or fall
for good men bleed fast if they don't bleed at all