(© Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan)
The pun is, of course, intentional, but all the actors are real. Only Mary’s name has been changed.
Mary fits the detonators; she builds the bombs
for the heroes to deliver.
It’s just a job. She means no harm to anyone,
Filling all the quotas that they give her.
In a year or two she wants to raise a family.
Her fiancé is a soldier.
She’ll teach them right from wrong,
watch them grow up young and strong
in a better world, when all this hatred’s over.
It often makes her wonder where the bombs she builds will fall,
helping spread democracy and freedom.
But she’s proud to play a part, however humble, after all,
the weaker nations need someone to lead them.
And all the politicians give good reasons for a war;
saying terror and oppression are a cancer.
“Do you simply let it grow?”
they ask. But even so,
it’s always high-finance that gives the loudest answer.
So Mary’s bombs keep falling and she builds more every day,
facilitating global evolution.
But would you change your lifestyle?
That’s the price we’d have to pay,
and there doesn’t seem to be a quick solution.
So dig down deep and send your money to the refugees;
the victims’ widows and their orphaned children.
Then book your holiday
and hope that all this goes away.
At least you’ll know it wasn’t you who killed them.