On a Clear Day, Take a deep breath And say: "Brother, let us choose life Over death, Today." For when "I" and "enemy" exist together, There is no room left for our treasure I have heard it said That: "The pursuit of peace Is the necessary rational end Of rational men." Let us be rational then, For there is no more urgent task Than to end the need for the question Wartorn children often ask: "Where is my sister?" "Where is my brother?" "Where is my father?" "Where is my mother?" Far better then We keep our heads And see our children fed On a Clear Day, A true day, On an every atom that belongs to me, As good belongs to you day, Would you pick up a gun And Shoot someone? Would you listen to the general or statistician? Media pundit or politician? The influencer whose insistence on victory Would condemn to slaughter Another mother’s Son or daughter? For the lie of victory at all costs, Is written in the crimson mud; You cannot wash away Blood with blood. As no just cause Can be called just When a child lies buried Under rubble and dust

Fuck Putin, Fuck Biden, Fuck Bush, Blair and Bin Laden. Fuck Trump, Fuck Musk, Fuck Johnson Sunak and Truss. Fuck Starmer, Fuck Obama, Fuck shady Comapany Men with bad karma. Fuck Wagner, Fuck Asov, Fuck Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos. Fuck Assad, Bolsanaro and Jinping, Fuck anyone who has bombed a hopsital wing. Fuck Murdoch, Thatcher and Reagan, Fuck Bill and Hillary Clinton. Fuck Hamas and the IDF, Fuck anyone who wants to fight to the death. Fuck the CIA and Fuck ISIS, Fuck you if you're the cause of a humanitarian crisis. Fuck Kitchener, Himmler and Eichmann, Fuck your definition of enlightened. Fuck Bagosora, Netanyahu, Milošević: This is Media Bias / Collateral Damage. Media Bias / Collateral Damage, Media Bias / Collateral Damage, Media Bias / Collateral Damage.

I was born the year he said he’d put an man on the moon, Supersonic space oddity, Tomorrow’s World coming soon, From the Beatniks to Sputnik, Paris May ‘68, United Nations and the Welfare State. Germaine Greer, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King; Who knew what the dream would bring? A nuclear crisis led to his peace speech, Marx was something you could still teach, The revolution felt like it was still in reach. But now all I hear is the long melancholy roar, Of that dream receding down the beach. It’s over, that’s the white cliffs of Dover, Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night… And by day? Why there’s rising shares in arms stock, Manifest Destiny’s got peace talks in an arms lock, Social media keeps the truth blocked, Everyone's going off half-cocked, Captain's log: "The fog of war is a smoke machine with a far right hand crank." They're laughing all the way to the fog bank. “Another sustainable war” says a military industrial think tank, Whilst mothers are queuing at the food bank. Am I a fool to think We could step away from the brink? Step away from the ledge. Peering over the edge, It's a long way down But history's not a straight line; It's a pandora’s box of lost and found. I was born the year he said he’d put a man on the moon, Supersonic space oddity, Tomorrow’s World was coming soon, Then: “Boom” Shot by a goon, Now we’re back in the war room There’s an atmosphere of doom, Must be that choir of oligarchs and oilmen all humming the same tune. Can't see through the media smoke machine smoke screen gloom, Can’t see past my smartphone The fumes are filling up my headroom, But there's no smoke without fire, And Twitter is blazing in my bedroom, Greta was right; the whole house is going up, And still those bozos can't stop blowing each other up. Freedom and victory has become a cluster bomb cluster fuck, You can’t seek asylum while those lunatics are running amuck. The war’s gone hot, After decades in the cold, I guess things fall apart, The centre cannot hold... Am I a fool to think We could step away from the brink? Is it all just talk? To stop the car, get out and walk? Plug the hole in the ozone Rather than put a hole in the warzone. To step away from the ledge. To stop peering over the edge, ‘Cause it's a long way down But history's not a straight line; It's a box of lost and found. "Look upon our works Ye Mighty," Will our truths remain profund? Or just another lost age gone bye bye, Long buried in the ground.

Dear Heavenly Father, Merciful Mother, Infinite Being, Greatest God; Can you please you bring me some relief, From the mischief, Of men with beef, Fighting over whose chief, Armed to the teeth, Hiding behind belief, Causing my family grief.

I was born the year he said he’d put a man on the moon, Supersonic space oddity, Tomorrow’s World was coming soon... At least the Space Race was a safe place; The SHADO Moon Base had hot pants and fag breaks. Players Weights, The goal was straight; Win the ideological debate, Not lay the world to waste. Now we’ve got Galactic and SpaceX, Soon they'll be paying for space sex. Billionaire sex pests, In space vests, Conducting weightless fuck fests, On their non-consenting guests. No wonder they're all investing in stocks and interests, Sure there's a price to be paid, But a few cents of centigrade to get laid? Is definitely worth summer in the shade, Even if the sea level gets raised, And coastal communities erased. So let us boldly blow, Our chances in space, Just as we have with this place.