I see tin Gods, metal Gods and Gods made out of stone.
There's a Sun King, in full swing, a King without a throne.
What's new, can we trust its true, or just the latest trend?
I'm tired of lies, lows and highs, the truth they try to bend.

How many hours, till more flowers to lie on a child's grave?
A snipers gun, takes aim for fun, a coward labelled brave.
No need to kill, to shoot at will, to torture, disable or maim.
What's the use, of even having a truce, if it still leaves a stain?

I live in hope, with enough rope, to hang all bombs and guns.
No more fear, or riot gear or the sight of blood red Suns.
Live and let live, move on and forgive, a dream I so often see.
A no arms call, a safer world for all, is every child's right to me.