The Carpetbaggers
The Carpetbaggers
Was it fun to dance
On the flaming highway
With the smell of burnt flesh
On all sides.
What had happened to the children
Whose lips are sewn
With wet leather strings
For longing a little extra light.
While the black hawks
Laughed hysterically
Gawking from far above
Telling lies to the passersby.
Once this land was a fountain
Even death could not enter openly
Before the carpetbaggers
Arrived with bagfuls of gunpowder .