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Written up high on a Belgrade wall in 1991 |
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I saw the words of a prophet in a ten-foot scrawl |
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Arm yourselves and run |
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Now the streets are quiet for the closing deals |
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And the Fimbulwinter days to come |
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And the beats all sound like the hammering of steel |
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Arm yourselves and run |
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You can watch revolutionaries/jihadists come |
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You can watch them fall |
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Year zero for another age as another age is born |
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Each fire must rise and rage |
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Until it burns itself to ashes in the dawn |
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In the cold smouldering dawn |
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So I remember the words on a Belgrade wall from 1991 |
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Some backstreet prophet in a ten-foot scrawl |
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Arm yourselves and run |
