Killing time

Not knowing what he had got into, only following the sheep,
The message sent for his deployment at only twenty-three.
Promised to be there for a short time, his mother looks at photos passed
Down from a family tradition; her head lies on her lap.

I'll never be sure exactly what it means
To serve and protect us from "enemies".
They make sure we're scared to justify this ugly, bloody mess.
It's less than your pride, it's suicide at best.

The waiting fills her with delusion and memories gone by.
"How could I give life to my baby, and then let him go die?"
But with the joke administration, where no one is exempt,
It's not your fault and never will be; don't hold love in contempt.

I feel like I'm lost, drowning out at sea,
Surrounded by space with no regard for sympathy.
She sees the parade of victory and war that wasn't won.
"I'm not coming home. He's my only son."

If an angel earns its wings every time somebody dies,
Then today the angels black out the blue sky.