The dead escape death in Heaven,
The living escape life in dreams,
This world isn’t heaven,
Although sometimes it seems
To be so as we look out our window
And gaze upon clear blue skies and tranquil seas,
In a place free from violence and disease,
But turn on the news and its a different tale,
One of violence, despair and children who wail
For their mothers, as gunmen stroll down the street,
And bombs fall to a genocide beat.

This story rings true throughout the ages,
As bored children in school turn the pages
Of their history book, never truly realizing these things actually happened,
But who could blame them?
When their world consists of childish games,
Far away from the gun filled lanes
of a distant country.

They say civil wars are the bloodiest, the worst
Yet all wars are between mankind and end in a hearse
being driven to the local cemetery,
Leaving family’s desolate, broken, solitary.

But I like many others shall continue our fun,
Sat under this throbbing pulsating sun,
And ill continue to drink my San miguel
In this purgatory far from heaven, far from hell.