With death on their faces
and life in their hearts,
A parade in the street
and a song in the dark,
they sing;
There are no words
and there is no tune,
No beat, no force,
no treble nor bass,
no chorus or refrain,
no audience to hear—
they sing;
To deafened ears and broken souls,
smiles fade with broken notes,
Warnings blare all through the night,
all meagre hope is left to die,
all virtue paid in hatred’s toll,
they do not sing;
They scream.
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