There's a border so near yet so far.
In helmets and vests of Kevlar
we'll chance the sniper fire
that ranges along the border.
Convoyed through the razor-wire
to record this greatest of tragedies
human pain and injuries
silent chemicals beyond the border.
And knowing the deepest truth,
no matter whatever we say
conflict slashes and cuts both ways
just like razor-wire on the border.
Where the uselessness of honesty
carries decisions that twist and sway
to justify the missile fire
from far beyond the border.
No matter what we write,
truth will be twisted by the lies
to coil like the razor-wire
serpents that guard the border.
To the East the carnival burns
like gasoline in flame and fire
while the West reacts in ire
and remains beyond the borders.
Now we stand as witnesses
and weep as the missiles fire
sharing in the travesty
erupting across the border.
Knowing the uselessness of honesty
should we have told some lies?
Should we have let truth die
on the razor-wire of the borders?