THE UNFORGIVEN
Left behind in the taverns
Saloons, alleys and gutters...
Many a shell-shocked grunt...
Point man or Ranger...
Sweaty hands around
Warm beers tremble
Reliving in pain
The bitter losses...
Titillating old war dogs
Or killers in closets...
Sitting next to pacifists
Pinko squatters...
Who rattle the chains
By their very presence
Dreading to hear of
The Unforgiven
Unfortunately for the room,
Every time he remembers
Who KILLED WITH THE GUN...
Who BAYONETED AND RAPED...
Who BOMBED AND TORTURED...
MUTILATED WITH GLEE...
While we waged war
In parenthesis...
Here at home too
We took casualties!!!
Wherever emotions
Like these collide...
Violence inevitably
Will erupt...
The butcher's tears
Give way to rage...
Old, outnumbered
And in the way...
In the walled-off world
Of small town fame
Lie the secrets of the
Revolution so dear...
Shit-faced and waiting
For the times to change
Like the poet Bob Dylan
Always said they would!
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