Spoils of War

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You put me in my place
in the ground
where the sound of my voice
won’t disturb
won’t curb your appetite
for this fight you’re bound to win
because no one else is in it

I didn’t fit the bill
so you gave me the boot
please don’t shoot the messenger
I’m just a fellow passenger on this red eye flight
this may seem trite
but brighter than bright only works
if no one shirks the labor
of making neighbor out of foe
and on we row
row row our boat gently down the stream
this dream was but a fancy
it would seem

Take the victor
and evict her
it’s time to ring the curtain
though you may be certain
the show is far from spoiled
a well-oiled machine are we
you’ll see me
when the ghost light’s lit
and from the pit the orchestra
will play
on