They found him crammed in a knot,

Outside a cemetery, in the parking lot,

With a scribbled note tied to his wrist:

"Please kill me. Please..I insist"

They took him to a military base,

Where a hundred children without a face

Were fed and groomed and spruced unseen.

They were building the ultimate Killing Machine.

They broke the boy beneath the wheel,

Put in iron rods and nerves of steel.

And on a cold day in dirty December

They taught him how to pull the trigger.

They didn't have to teach him any more,

It seemed like he'd seen it all before.

He could destroy a Panjandrum alone,

Could shoot arrows with a fish bone.

2001, Kabul, the mountains and Mujahidins,

Rocket propelled grenades and dreadful Djinns.

"Bomb the tunnel, rape the young and maiden,

Kill as many but detain Osama Bin Laden."

Bang! Bang! Rat-tat-tat! This is nothing new,

2003, Baghdad, deployed to tame the shrew.

Asymmetric warfare with guerilla insurgents,

Captured Saddam, 'twas good riddance.

"Good job, son! You can now go home.

We don't want no War Syndrome.

"Next we gotta liberate Azerbaijan

And later on build a Democratic Sudan."

They put him on a plane

And sent him back to home terrain.

His head is sane, but his heart swells

With what he's seen and what it tells.

They found him in a parking lot,

His brains splattered, a single gun-shot.

Lay dead by his own hands, the warhorse,

The Killing Machine with a heart full of remorse.