Silent night, Holy night,
How many times do you show your might?
The comfort comes from soft slow notes
Floating on air just like a boat
The crunching horridness of broken glass
Underneath the feet of the singing mass
a horrible parody of a holy time
Walking past the broken shrines
The silent night is no longer good
In furrowing brows, the people brood
It matters who was killed in this fight
It matters who was dead this night
Slowly eyes spy a peaceful couple,
Dead, obviously, but no longer in trouble
Arms entwined around each other
holes in their hearts, blood of their fathers
But so in love, the expression on their face
Gives rise to the question, who will win this race?
War is such a terrible thing
People die in an eye blink
Such is the waste and slandering of war
Compared to others, their time they're far before.
And therefore sing no more, and hereafter say,
We'll always remember that fateful day.