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Heavy street fighting
Been going on for days
Makeshift graves outside city limits
Filled with bodies of slaughtered people

Men women childeren all dead
The massacre – why
The massacre – why
Eight month foetus

Sticking on a bayonet
Mother’s just a piece of dead meat
The massacre – why
The massacre – why

You murdered me with rope
You murdered me with guns too
You massacred whole families
And laughed throughout their pain

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