The scenes were like that in a nightmarish dream
The faces thought to be asbestos peeled from the street
Picked them up, stared into those human eyes, the lives
Fathers brothers sisters mothers die for the ambitions of another
Feeling scared, surprised, devoured by dreams lost
Do you think you know what’s “right”? Who decides the cost?
Is this roadside patriotism supposed to make us feel strong,
Or helpless under the knowledge of never knowing what’s going on?