Fuzzy Fish

Tune: Mercedes Lackey's "The Cost of the Crown".

The stars are cruel and far and bright, as I can't help but know,
Reminding me of peace and rest I've felt so long ago.
The ruthless march of war has swept away all able men,
And those who can no longer march still serve the best they can.

It seems so very long ago when I, too, left to fight,
My swagger and my loud remarks not masking much my fright,
We fell upon the Enemies' ship, and screaming we attacked…
I came back as a tattered mess. My friends did not come back.

My nerves are spun of platinum; My lungs no more draw air.
My heart pumps liquid nitrogen, and feels no more despair.
All these things I know as true, and yet, if they are real,
Why are there tears in my dead eyes? What is this pain I feel?

I am now the dispatcher, and I send men to their deaths.
I feel no heat nor cold, but I do feel their dying breaths.
I am now but a cold machine, and have not my own will,
But though I send my pilots out to die, I mourn them still.

They die upon the edges, as their ships blast into void,
Where Enemies rebuild the homes we long ago destroyed.
My pilots give their strength, and give again, until there's none.
They do not know, when fighting, the the war is long-since won.

The Enemies we feared so long are weary to the bone.
They would not strain to harm us if we just left them alone.
You who distrusts their calls for peace, hears lies within their words,
Believe the one whose eyes and ears are spread throughout their worlds.

There may be purpose to this slaughter, but I see it not.
We're fighting for a cause that we had long ago forgot.
You politicians, men of state, all you who rule the sky –
Listen to a dead man's plea, and send no more to die.