Bombers Moon re;write

Making love to my demons
Under the flag of my country
Caught in between the never believer
And a pardon of angels,
Who bargain their souls for my redemption?

Empowered by a nation,
Glorified by heroes departed
My life sanctified by religious compromise
For tonight I fly, under the bombers moon

Nearer to God than most
This place, where silent screams dwell
And rainbows come to die.

In the scheme of things
A Cities worth is one minute, 23 seconds
The camera to record in slow mo for Posterity,
A justification for the victorious
But an unseen extermination to me

But don’t worry,
Time, like, the brook of sighs, will wash away these sins
But not the seeds,

For we are the gardeners of sin,
Their germination, lovingly corrupted
In our differences, them and us

The Pillars of capitalism our advantage
The fear of the Devil theirs
Our final epitaph in the circle of life,
We truly are, a blessed Race.