I did what I did because I was ordered to,
said the Spanish in Cuba,
said the Americans in the Philippines,
said the English in Africa.
Nazi’s in Germany learned from them,
and natives in Bosnia and Rwanda thought
to kill like they did was okay because
the orders came from above.
Can it be true that humans perceive they
must follow commands put in their hands,
or do they try to lay the blame on someone
from above and say they came from love?
Can they be tried and convicted for the
wicked they’ve done? God told Abraham
to kill his son and if he would have
sacrificed him as he was told,
in our modern times, would he get the
electric chair? Would the soldiers God
ordered to kill civilians, including
women and children be sent to jail?
If the answer is no, why do we have so
many locked up who have done harm
because God told them to? It’s written
in stone, “Thou Shalt Not Kill.”
But who chiseled those words? Are they clear?
Kill is a four letter word and is easy to spell and
easy to do, but when told not to, how many obey?
Doesn’t “Not Kill” mean what it says?
If we follow orders from above, we’ll no longer
kill a bug feasting on us, or a cow for
dinner, nor will we kill creatures who live
in the sea.
How will we survive if we don’t kill to eat?
Maybe if all killing came to a sudden stop,
we’d receive a message from on high saying,
“Sunshine and love is all you need to survive.”
“He’ll be sorry he’s so disrespectful by
not showing any fear when I came near.
Shoot him in the head until he’s dead,”
I pulled the trigger and one .44 slug left my
gun in flames with murder as its intent.
Why’d I do that I asked myself as I
pointed the gun at Gary’s head and said,
“You’re insane.” Pulled the trigger and the
fiery bullet didn’t have his name on it and missed.
I hid my head in shame when the gas pumps
erupted into flames.
Lit by flickering flames, Gary’s face began to
stretch into an evil grin as the pumps exploded.
Heat in waves rolled over our car and Gary’s smile
melted right off his face.
Happy to see him die, I fled the flaming car.
Who put me in that car and who gave me a gun?
I’ll never know, but I was certainly there in the midst
of despair and thought it wasn’t fair that I was there.
Though afraid, I killed a man and because it all happened
in a dream doesn’t mean I’m not guilty, I think,
because the world I dreamed in, is as real as this one.
When I sleep, will the police from there come for me?
If I’m sentenced to the electric chair and the clock strikes
the time for me to walk the last mile, will I die there and here?
You don’t Care
I don’t have any pride, it died when I
pawned my god damn ring. You tell
me that ain’t right and I almost faint
when you say, I’m not your friend
and can’t even spend the night.
Baby, I say absurd things, like, you know
what suffering’s like from needles, and poison,
gas. You’ll go back to Chicago if you mistreat
me one more time and you’ll never find any gold
in their stinking cattle yards.
You tried to put me down, but I turned the tide.
Call me to ball when you’re feeling lowdown,
cause I’m not going door to door along the shore,
or through the woods searching for an invitation
from your heart that I’ve already got.
That’s all right if your greed uses up all my
empty cups. I’m your priceless friend to the end
because you got the buzz that I need. I’ll sell
another ring hiding behind my door, so I don’t have
to worry about your pride, envy or greed.
When I’m walking on down the street, my poor
heart skips a beat and I’ll never look again, until
I get that bad, bad feeling that in the name of love,
tears roll from the doorway of my heart, making it
stop when I don’t receive costly repairs and you don’t
care that it’s the end.