Battering wings of black delight Summon up the wind and meld into the night Eyes flash victory when battles rage And the bodies rise up to meet the day And every stinking sinew calls That some man's victory Is another's downfall. Hollow men in hollow hours With hollow chests housing Sparse petalled sunflowers Empty skulls with vacant eyes And hands that hold only Death's kiss of surprise Lay proving that however bad What little that is good can be lost When The Man goes mad. Legions of ancestral crows Fly in formation as shadows grow And the earth refuses to accept its load Of fresh corpses in copses of oak and pine groves Instead the stinking pyres are built From the bones of houses that hopeful hands built And on their hungry jaws are laid Mother's love, future fears and Hopeless prayers prayed All wrapped up in human form All gone to waste All dead With not a soul left to mourn. Old lies, patriotic and otherwise Are wheeled out as rich men Do the sums of how much has to be lost So that they can say they won. It don't matter much what any of us say Bullets make money Bombs make hay Shine shines Bucks leap And in the market The wild bull is slaughtered For game Not sacrifice or supper-meat. Die for your country Die because you hate Die because you fear Die because the hour is getting late Die because you have nothing else to do Die because you are stupid. Die for him because he died for you. Die. Be dead. Go on. Rest your head With worms and maggots in the battlefield All you are is a decaying politicians Yearly total sum and maximum net yield.