All I have to say is, once this is over, the Iraqi people better be the freest fucking people on the face of the earth. They better be freer than me. They better be so fucking free they can fly.
Men were executed, women bled
Beads and fish changed hands and
Children stayed up late
Uh huh—
Colored drums they stretched the night
There’s a taxidermist looking for a fight
But now he’s gone
Ah yeah, only the stones remain.
Girls were decked with flowers and violated while
Boys spat juice from out of their fresh young bulbs.
Soldiers crossed their hearts and died and
Pretty girls turned cold inside
But now they’re gone.
Only the stones remain
Oh they’re gone, yeah
Only the stones remain.
And the stones have forgotten them
The stones have forgotten them
They break your body and drain the life out of it.
It sinks into the soil while the soul flies up into the air above.
And when there’s no more tears to cry, there’s
Nothing left to do but laugh.
Stained glass elaborations collapse and candyfloss evaporates, honey.
Only the stones remain, here they go
Ah yeah, only the stones remain.
Now they’re gone
Ah yeah, only the stones remain.
Girls were decked with flowers and ovulated while
Colored drums expressed the night.
There’s a taxidermist grinnin’ with delight.
—Robyn Hitchcock. Title from Get Your War On.
Commenting is closed for this article.
