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Who wears the hide knew not the beast,
the butcher’s pride on which we feast.
The slaughtered hope, the truth, the lamb;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
’Twas too our bent to slash and burn,
pollute for loot without concern.
Let rivers flow to soil and dam;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Obese the brutes in brutal greed
yet throw away what others need.
To do as want because we can;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Of pomp and bling, of coin and fame,
of gods and pimps ’tis all the same.
Deny, decry; who gives a damn?
’Twas always thus, the ways of man.
We whinge, we moan, we plod along
yet still we hum the same old song.
As pawns we must, our masters’ plan;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
The taints, the bribes, the backroom tricks,
the broken oaths, ’tis politics!
Let moolah talk, ’tis in the can;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
To war again, to cull and maim,
our heroes, hail, our tombs of fame.
‘Our widows’ pride’, the papers ran;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Where evil reigns beneath the truths,
where men and lies in vile cahoots.
Of plots and plans, ’tis all a scam;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
the butcher’s pride on which we feast.
The slaughtered hope, the truth, the lamb;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
’Twas too our bent to slash and burn,
pollute for loot without concern.
Let rivers flow to soil and dam;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Obese the brutes in brutal greed
yet throw away what others need.
To do as want because we can;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Of pomp and bling, of coin and fame,
of gods and pimps ’tis all the same.
Deny, decry; who gives a damn?
’Twas always thus, the ways of man.
We whinge, we moan, we plod along
yet still we hum the same old song.
As pawns we must, our masters’ plan;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
The taints, the bribes, the backroom tricks,
the broken oaths, ’tis politics!
Let moolah talk, ’tis in the can;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
To war again, to cull and maim,
our heroes, hail, our tombs of fame.
‘Our widows’ pride’, the papers ran;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
Where evil reigns beneath the truths,
where men and lies in vile cahoots.
Of plots and plans, ’tis all a scam;
’twas always thus, the ways of man.
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