Revival of Wasted Souls

The revival of wasted souls,

The ever awaited ritual,

Of blood and sand.

Can’t you hear the Salvation Army?

Marching steadily.

Can’t you hear the footsteps?

The brisk footsteps,

The intoxicating rhythms of arrival?

Who wants to bear that pain?

The slow torture,

Where the flesh is ripped off from the bones,

A game of merciless slaughter.

Revival, that’s what they say!

But I would say that’s a bloody massacre!

Promises of a distance future,

A future of peace, happiness and delight,

A future of pure freedom,

So many ways to express yourself!

Who wouldn’t want the revival?

Hope, it’s a strange feeling.

Hopeful is he, who dreams.

Dream now, of some distant future.
Some good times ahead.

Till then,

Let the Salvation Army do their job.