Colin F. Jones


God made us all then he opted out,
No responsibility does he take,
Though folk are asked to be devout,
And not blame God for their mistake.
Yet we are frail defective folk,
That’s the way we all were made,
For old Satan’s fires we all stoke,
Because we hunt and kill and trade.
So we can dream of things unreal
That the myth controls our lives
That it might better make us feel,
Though logic tells us it’s all lies
For there is no truth that might reveal,
Why man lives until he dies.

What would life be like without some form,
Of belief that defined the law
That defined for us our moral codes,
As reasons for going to war?
What do we defend, an idle thought,
A dream that we are free?
Or do we fight just to survive,
Before the axe-man hews our tree?
What is it that we die for friend,
Why do most soldiers go to war?
It is hard for some to comprehend,
What the hell they are fighting for.
We do it because we are ordered to,
Though it’s an activity we deplore