By Stan White
Ó 1999
Billy’s Dad:
No son of mine is going to go to war.
Put his life out on the line
And fight those horrid creatures.
If you ask me, I don’t see a problem
Just make some more of them
And let them fight themselves.
I can’t believe that this is really happening.
Machines can’t fight their masters.
It’s not what they were programmed for.
There must be somewhere we can go.
Overseas, some tiny island
Some escape from this disaster.
Somewhere, there has got to be a button we can push
To turn their little minds off.
Can I be the one to push it?
I can’t believe that modern man has only come so far
To fall into another war
What was all this progress for?
How can we fight? None of us knows how.
They drive the busses, trains and subways,
Fly the planes and so much more.
This isn’t how the whole thing was supposed to be.
They were only made to serve
Somehow the slaves control their masters.
Crowd:
We don’t want a war.
Don’t believe in war.
We can’t handle all this fighting and this dying.
We don’t want a war.
Children answer:
Don’t we want a war?